Story of a Lifetime
by Chidori no Tenshi
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo didn't have to win the war, her mind frantically supplied. But if he could distract Aizen just enough—just enough for her to take off with Gin, maybe, maybe...! A story of life after the Winter War. M to be safe.
1. Part I

Hi, everyone! Somehow I made it…August 12th, Yusa Kouji-san's birthday! For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, that's Ichimaru Gin's Japanese voice actor. I think he's the best voice actor to ever walk the face of earth. But that's just me. Ehehe.

This fanfiction is my baby. It's taken me quite a while to crank it out. It's my own personal closure for the abrupt way that my favorite pairing, not to mention my favorite anime character of all time, was so suddenly killed. Just like that! It was completely unacceptable to me, so I wrote this, and I hope that it may help others like me to somehow live with the way the plot unraveled.

Anyway, that's the end of my dramatic rant. This story will be divided into multiple parts. **The end of each part can be taken as the ending of the entire story**, so if you'd like, you can stop without reading to the end and not feel as if the story's incomplete (or at least, I hope it'll be like that for you). And, well, if you can't help but to keep going, please do! :D I'm really looking forward to what everyone has to say, so if possible, a review would be very, very nice as well.

Note: I exclusively watch the Japanese version of the anime and the way I write Bleach fanfiction probably completely adheres to that, so here are some terms that might not have carried over to the English dub:

taichou: captain

fukutaichou: lieutenant

soutaichou: Captain-Commander

shinigami: Death God

Seireitei: Court of Pure Souls

futon: a type of Japanese on-the-floor bed

kidou: demon magic

shouji door: door made of a frame of wood/bamboo and translucent paper

…I think that's all. I tried to stick as closely to English as I could without letting any unneeded Japanese pop out. ^3^

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, only this plot. This goes for the rest of the story parts, too.

P.S. I would suggest paying attention to the dates. And I apologize for the humongous author's note. x.x

* * *

><p>Story of a Lifetime - Part I<p>

* * *

><p><em>October 11th<em>

The shining, silver sword sliced through him like knife through butter, another body to add to Aizen's pile of sacrifices. Just another person thrown away without hesitation, a used tissue he was, this cunning boy-turned-man that had been his right-hand man for a century.

She woke with a start, eyes wide and chest heaving.

Gin.

Reiatsu burst out in a sudden explosion from his body, as if the death slash had released everything he'd kept bottled inside. It twisted and writhed, and then the dance was over as soon as it had begun. Remnants of energy swept through the battlefield, only thin wisps caressing her upturned face. Her fingers twitched in response to the nostalgic warmth.

Gin.

She was at his side before she realized she'd moved, her body crouched over him, protective and heartbroken. Blood dripped down his chin. She could only stare in shock. It was his blood this time that soaked his white clothes. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen blood that belonged to him on his clothes, and she knew at that very moment, watching the droplets dye the ground—even with all the courage and ruthlessness and determination and fury she could muster, crushed into a ball of hard emotion that became _her_—she would have never been able to strike him. Meeting here as two opposite people on two opposite sides of the war, she still mourned the spilling of his blood.

Sobs rose in her lungs and she didn't resist, the tears thick, salty, sad as they trailed over her lips. They fell on his face and the only thing she could see then was how he'd never changed at all. She should have seen it. By God, if only her in this entire world, she should have seen it. It was always, always about him.

He was beautiful. Those high cheekbones, the line of his jaw, the smoothness of his skin, and the peaceful look on his face as he lay unconscious. His lashes, dark against his face, didn't flutter, and she cried. His reiatsu was empty and dimming, a feeling that made her gasp out in short, uncontrollable breaths, reaching for him, trying to catch him, _save_ him.

A million images flashed across her mind.

Gin, the little boy that had offered her food, she who had been dying, and a complete stranger.

Gin, launching sharp stones at the angry villagers chasing them, shouting back at her to run.

Gin on her birthday, grinning, a delicately-wrapped parcel in his hands.

Gin, and the pride radiating from him as he showed her his newly planted trees.

Gin, the grief-stricken look on his face when he told her goodbye.

Distant steps echoed from behind her. She didn't care. Aizen could take anything he wanted from her. He could rip her limb from limb; he could possess her mind with Kyouka Suigetsu. But she would never, never allow him to erase the warm energy that she'd been yearning for these last three months. Familiar, fleeting. Fading.

A thunderous crash shook the ground from behind her. She was jolted her from her half-crazed thoughts, turning her head slowly, stunned to find Ichigo standing there. Her arms trembled under her weight. The clogs in her mind turned, worked, while her frantic heart could only foolishly beat.

Sorrow began to make way for an insane flicker of hope. Kurosaki Ichigo didn't have to win the war, her mind frantically supplied. She didn't even care if they won anymore. But if he could distract Aizen just enough—just enough for her to take off, maybe...maybe...!

Her lips trembled as she made eye contact with the substitute shinigami. He understood. _I don't need you to tell me that_, his eyes told her, and thirty seconds later, two people were missing from the battlefield.

* * *

><p>Red rivulets seeped from her lip where she'd bitten through. Dampness was soaking through her uniform, the metallic smell making her lose her footing for a second as she swayed. She could only bite harder through her lip and continue on her way, shunpo steps faster than they'd ever been in her life.<p>

Please. Please let me be on time. Please, please, _please_. She could barely feel the beating of his heart anymore, even pressed so close to her back. She tried to force some of her own reiatsu into his body, as if it might halt his path down the final tunnel, his name a whispered mantra in her mind.

Rooftop after tiled rooftop, she raced through Seireitei. When the Fourth Squad barracks drifted into view, she ran faster. Some of the higher-ranked shinigami streamed out from the front entrance, sensing her approach, and saw her stumble on an uneven tile before dropping to a clumsy stop on her knees in front of the gate.

"Matsumoto-fukutaichou!" She wheezed for breath, unable to force her heavy tongue to form words.

"Wh-What's happening?" The surrounding crowd gathered warily, and there was a collective gasp of recognition at the body sprawled across her back. "The traitor Ichimaru G—"

"Take him in," she whispered harshly, cutting them off. The blood was soaking through her clothes. She could feel it, wet and warm. It was trickling all around her like rain, wet and warm. Hurry.

Silence. "B-But—"

"Are you going to disobey a fukutaichou's orders? I said to_ take him in!_" Her head was so heavy she couldn't look past the half-dozen sandaled feet around her, frozen in shock. "Give him everything you've got," she gritted out. "Save him."

And then everything was black.

* * *

><p>When she opened her eyes, all she could see was a blurry, brown ceiling. She blinked and the lines of the wood became clear, and then she noticed a soft yellow light surrounding her. Three people were crowded around her futon. The girl on her right side gave her a small smile. "Don't worry, Matsumoto-fukutaichou. You'll be fine soon." Matsumoto's brow scrunched up in confusion, but when she turned her head and saw through the gap of multiple bodies a pale form lying on the futon next to hers, it all came rushing back. She sat up abruptly.<p>

"I don't need help. I'm fine. Put everything you have into him."

"B—"

"Just do it, please." The three shinigami shuffled over to him, adding their hands and energy to make him glow brighter. She knew she was being unreasonable. Wounds took time to heal, not just lots of kidou energy. But she was beyond being reasonable by now.

Her eyes wandered over his face. There were black shadows under his eyes. How long have they been there, she wondered. How deep was the ocean of her own problems, how dense the salt water, that she hadn't even seen that something was off, that everything was wrong? Her eyes trailed down and she choked back another sudden sob that welled up in her, rapidly blinking away tears. With his white coat off, she could see the stump where his arm had been ripped off. There was a large gash ripping from his left shoulder to his right hip, and a hole torn through his body, an inch from his heart. The blood had been staunched, but the wounds weren't closing.

Blackness began crawling out from her chest, slowly eating her alive. He wouldn't be saved, at this rate. There was nothing more she could do. She allowed her hair to sweep over her face, blocking the dying image of him from her mind.

"Matsumoto-fukutaichou? Are you all right?"

The woman looked up, raw for a quick second before she composed herself. "Yes, I'm fine. Let me help, too."

* * *

><p>Her joints ached from moving around so much immediately after her critical wounds had been healed. Half a foot from his bedding, she dropped to a squat. Her muscles protested and she sighed in surrender before falling back on her bottom, knees drawn up to her chest. A hand touched the white cloth on his forehead, then recoiled twice as fast. She moved to stand again, but a voice from the doorway stopped her.<p>

"Matsumoto-fukutaichou, won't you please stop moving?" A girl that had been healing her pleaded. "Your physical wounds might be pretty much closed up, but you should still rest."

Matsumoto sighed again. "I can't sleep like this."

"How about telling me want you want, then? I can get it for you." The girl blinked when she saw the cloth on the ex-taichou's forehead. "Ah, you got the cloth?"

"You know, you should go get some rest, too. You've all been at it for the past four hours. The least I could do was to wrap bandages around his wound and get a cloth for his fever."

"No, no. This is our duty. We're used to it." She paused. "Well, the others are resting now. On second thought, I think I'll go join them. I'll bring you a basin of cold water first, though."

"Thanks." She came back with a wooden bowl two feet across and at least four inches deep, filled to the brim. "This should be enough to last the night," she grinned, and Matsumoto almost smiled. "Yeah. Thanks for your help. Go on now, get your rest."

"Good night, Matsumoto-fukutaichou." The shouji door slid quietly shut.

A cool breeze wafted in from the window. Matsumoto stood up to close it, but she ended up gazing outside, past Seireitei and into rolling green hills shadowed by the orange, setting sun. She'd forgotten that the sun set earlier in October. An autumn leaf blew past her and she allowed herself to briefly enjoy the scent of the season, before shaking herself from the daydream. This was no time to be enjoying nature. She had run back here like a coward while all her friends were out fighting to the death. Still, no matter how she tried to convince herself, nothing could force her away from Gin right now. With a third sigh and a sweep of her hand, the sun disappeared from view.

She padded over back to his side, taking the cloth from his forehead and dunking it generously into the fresh water. Brushing back silver strands that had fallen to cover his eyes, she replaced the cloth and sat back. Her gaze trailed over him for a moment and she leaned over, grabbing a nearby comforter and tucking it close to his chin, covering those bandages. Tiny puffs of warm air touched her cheek when she bent over him and she was suddenly thrown back into her memories.

_Over a century ago: December 12th _

_She doubled over in dry, hacking coughs that made her lungs ache. Her eyes watered with the intensity and she threw her covers back in an attempt to cool down. Groaning at the wave of dizziness that hit her, the little girl struggled to remain in a seated position._

"_Rangiku?"_

_She sniffed miserably. She should find some sort of board to cover up the entrance. With only a thin mat made of sticks that barely brushed the ground, cold wind was always sneaking in. _

"_Ran-chan?"_

_Great. Now she had voices in her head. Shut up already, she had enough to worry about._

"_Oi, Rangiku!" _

_...Huh? _

_The girl turned to the door a little too quickly and immediately regretted it when the pounding returned with a vengeance. Her head fell in her hands and she moaned in frustration._

_Hasty steps made their way to her, then a raspy sound of wood meeting wood. She peeked an eye open. "Rangiku, what's wrong? Yer sick?" A cold hand touched her forehead._

"_G-G-Gin?"_

"_One an' only." She drank in the sight of him, his plum-colored yukata, silver hair that almost glittered from the moonlight outside. He was kneeling close to her, a basket of dried persimmons next to him._ _Look at him fit in__, a tiny voice in her mind whispered bitterly,_ _as if he'd always been there__. The way she'd wanted him to be. Involuntarily, tears welled up in her eyes, poured down her face. His eyes widened and she choked with a giddy laugh-sob—ah, it was that bright, blue-green gaze she'd been needing for the last month._

_He only continued to watch her with surprise and a touch of panic. "Rangiku, somethin' wrong?"_

_The laugh cut itself off, gone in a spark, washed away by a stream of anger and loneliness that trickled into a vast ocean. Drip. Drip. Her brow scrunched up and she turned from him, arms crossed over her chest. Coughs rose again, but she stubbornly kept her lips sealed, little body trembling with the effort. _

"_Ignorin' me?"_

_She stared at the floor. "Don't talk to me, stupid."_

"_Stupid?"_

"_That's right. Stupid."_

"_..."_

"_I hate you." Her jaw was set with resolution. _

"_...Ouch. Never thought I'd hear Ran-chan of all people say that to me." Her eyes narrowed. The little stream widened into a river, now black with fear, too._ _If you don't stop yourself__,__ he might leave for good__.__ She shook her head to clear the unwanted thoughts. I__t didn't matter. He'd eventually leave for good one day._ _Why shouldn't she use this chance to tell him everything she's always wanted to? Why did she have to be the chaser?_

_The girl turned to glare at him, tears drying on her face. But the blue-greens were gone already, and she couldn't read him. "That's right. I hate you," she hissed, drowning in her black, black ocean. "You left me without a single word. And in this cold winter, too, when you know exactly how I…how I…" her voice drifted off, but returned in a determined shout. "I hate you! You abandoned me and I finally accepted that! Why did you come back? Who the hell do you think you are?"_

_He didn't say anything._

_The tears restarted, sinking into her sheets, and she pressed a hand hard to her mouth. She wouldn't let him see any more of her weakness. She wouldn't let him hear her cry, the way she'd done that morning long ago when she'd first woken up to find the shack empty of the only person she'd ever cared for._

"_I'm sorry, Rangiku," he whispered, tentatively reaching for the hand covering her mouth. _

"_Don't touch me!" She slapped his hand away, ignoring the hurt look on his face. "You don't know what it feels like, thinking every night before you go to sleep, 'Ah, this might be the last time I see him. I might wake up tomorrow, and he won't be there.'" Her voice was loud as she yelled through building sobs. "'And then he might never come back again.' Do you understand what that's like?" But he only sat there. Silent._

_She gave up. Her hand fell from her mouth and she let out deep, heaving sobs, crying out into the night. _

_She was pathetic. It wasn't like this was the first time he'd left. Why now? She was so pathetic. So dependent. Pathetic._

_There was a distressed look on his face, and several times his hands twitched as if he wanted to reach for her, but they always settled back into fists on his lap. She cried and cried for what seemed like forever._

_Then suddenly, the sobs cut off. She gasped for breath in short inhalations, almost hyperventilating. A second later, Gin's eyes were wide again, and he finally pulled on her hands. "Rangiku, calm down! Ya got a nosebleed!" Touching his sleeve gingerly to her nose, he coaxed, "Deep breaths. C'mon, take in deep breaths." She hiccupped once, twice, three more times. A cool hand on her back guided her to sit up straight. _

_Her eyelids slid closed. Then opened again. Repeated the cycle, miserably. His hand soothed her back gently, and her breathing began to even out._

"_I'm real sorry, Ran-chan. But I can't tell ya where I go off every time. Not yet, anyway."_

_She didn't reply. Two minutes later, he pulled his sleeve away, and by the relieved look on his face, the blood had stopped. His other hand tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then dropped to his lap. His gaze swept over her, taking in her sweat-damp locks and dull blue eyes. "Yer really sick."_

_She glared_ _to the side. A pale hand appeared in her face. _

"_Eat up. Ya need th'energy." _

"_I don't need it," she said bitterly, pushing it away._

"_C'mon, Rangiku, just eat it. I got 'em 'specially for ya."_

_She sneered. "Don't throw your smooth lines at me. You're the one that likes dried persimmons."_

"_Well, yeah, I like 'em, but I didn't get 'em for me, I got 'em for Ran-chan. 'Cause ya said ya like 'em, too." The hand edged closer to her mouth. She let out a long breath through her nose, then bit into the fruit obligingly. A grin, one she was so familiar with, spread on his face. "Good girl."_

_She chewed quietly for the next couple of moments, him feeding her when she swallowed. "Gin?"_

"_Hm?"_

"_When are you going to stop leaving?"_

_He stilled for a moment, the smile wiped from his face. "'Till ya don't have to cry anymore."_

"_What d—" Arms suddenly wrapped around her, soft hair and warm breath brushing her cheek._

"'_Sides, I always come back, don't I?" Her nose stinging again, the little girl hugged the boy back tightly, fingers curling around the fabric at his back._

"_Yeah."_

Present day

Matsumoto pulled back and blinked. Hints of boyish features still retained in his now slightly more angular, older face, she noted that he really, really hadn't changed at all.

She watched his chest rise and drop for the next hour or so, parted lips softly drawing in breaths. His forehead-cooler was changed at least three more times, but otherwise, she didn't move, seated there cross-legged like his guardian. The room darkened with the sky until she was forced to light a candle. The flame cast shadows over his hands, his cheeks. Asleep, he was so peaceful, the sinister aura entirely gone.

She sat there for a little while more, then peeked under the corner of his covers to check the bandages. No hint of blood. Her lips pursed when a wayward thought nagged at the back of her mind.

_Why had Aizen betrayed Gin? _

After another half-hour of running over possibilities, she still didn't have anything she really wanted to believe, and so she settled for simply being there for him—the way he'd been there for her when she was sick, hands running through her hair until she'd fallen asleep.

* * *

><p><em>October 13th<em>

Matsumoto woke again in a haze of confusion; she didn't remember falling asleep or moving to her futon. The room was almost completely enshrouded in darkness; only a single beam of moonlight shining from the open window illuminated a spot on the floor. She looked to the right.

Gin was lying there, still, for once in his life. So still that she felt a hint of apprehension. A translucent barrier of kidou boxed him in, his comforter still firmly tucked under his chin. She sat up and padded quietly over to him. Settling on the floor where she'd by now claimed as her spot, she reached her hands through the barrier to warm his palm. His chest rose slowly, sank slowly.

It was so quiet. She couldn't even hear him breathing.

"Oh!" Matsumoto turned to the door to see the same brown-haired girl that had helped her earlier. "Matsumoto-fukutaichou! You're finally awake!" She hurried over, a damp towel draped over her forearm, relief evident in her eyes.

"Hello. How long was I out?"

"It's been around two days."

"What?"

"Yes. It was a long two days." Bags were clear under the eyes of this young girl too, and a sudden surge of fury rose in Matsumoto. Aizen…Aizen did all this. And for what? He wished to be God, but God was never number one in anyone's heart.

Her eyes widened at the thought. "Aizen! What happened to Aizen? It's been two days; the battle can't still be going on!"

"It seems that the substitute shinigami Kurosaki Ichigo defeated Aizen Sousuke. His sentence is being determined at this moment. I believe that his trial will take place in around a week." Matsumoto's shoulders slumped. A small burden was lifted from her shoulders. She supposed she should have been jumping with joy, but the majority of the weight wouldn't budge. She couldn't jump yet. "Some people tried to come see you, but I stopped them because I was afraid of infection. Oh, and um, Kurosaki Ichigo-san and his friends are here in Soul Society right now. If you'd like to go visit them, I can keep watch on Ichimaru-taichou for you, Matsumoto-fukutaichou."

"No." Her expression didn't change, but she felt a twinge of dark amusement. 'Ichimaru-taichou', huh? "No, I'm fine here."

"Oh. Okay then. Is there anything else I can do for you? I could bring you a late dinner."

"No, I'm not hungry. But thanks. So...how is he?"

"Well, we've managed to put a somewhat permanent stop to the bleeding. That was a miracle in itself. But his wounds..." She drifted off.

"What?"

"W-We don't know what's going to happen now. If the gash in his torso and the stab wound by his heart don't close up soon, I don't think...I mean, the arm was already bad enough, but we do have quite a bit of experience in dealing with limb losses. It's just the gash and the hole we're more worried about now, because they're quite fatal. Almost all of his vital organs have been pierced. We're not even really sure how his heart is still pumping." Matsumoto interlaced her fingers, but the shaking wouldn't stop.

"I see..."

"To be completely honest..." the girl paused and bit her lip.

"What is it?"

Her gaze flashed upwards at the fukutaichou. "Um, we don't think...Ichimaru-taichou probably...well, of course, nothing's set in stone, it's just that—"

Matsumoto sighed. "Just tell me already."

"To put it bluntly, we don't think he's going to make it."

Her heart stopped for a nanosecond, a millisecond, a second, two seconds. Then it sputtered back to life, the pumps and rivers of adrenaline deafening in her ears. If only she could give this deafening sound to him...But no, she berated herself. No need to be dramatic. She'd known. She'd known it the second she'd seen, that he probably wouldn't...

"He's surviving right now due to some kind of odd miracle, but his heart can stop any second now. The two days it's lasted has already set a record. We...we...I-I'm sorry, Matsumoto-fukutaichou."

The words ran through her mind, over and over again, like a nightmare that couldn't end. 'It's deep', she'd said. 'Not sure how his heart is still pumping', 'limb losses', 'defeated Aizen Sousuke', 'Kurosaki Ichigo-san and his friends are here in Soul Society'...

She froze.

'Kurosaki Ichigo-san and his friends are here in Soul Society.'

Ichigo was here.

Ichigo's _friends_ were here.

In Soul Society.

The thumping in her ears got even louder and she whirled towards the girl. "Wait, you said that Ichigo's friends are here right now?"

She blinked solemnly up at Matsumoto. "Um, yes."

"Do...Do you know if a girl named Inoue Orihime is with them? Long, bright orange hair?"

"Why yes, I believe so."

Matsumoto leapt up. "Where? Where are they?"

"I believe they're in the Kuchiki mansion at the mo—" A flutter of strawberry blond hair, and the girl was talking to thin air.

* * *

><p>"Orihime? Orihime-chan! Are you there?"<p>

"M-Matsumoto-fukutaichou!" Two guards grabbed her arms just as she was about to pass through the threshold into the Kuchiki garden. "You do understand that it's past midnight already?" one of them whispered urgently to her.

"Please, just come back in the morning! Kuchiki-sama will welcome you then!" the other insisted.

"Let go of me," she hissed. "You think I would come here just for fun, at this hour? This is urgent news! A man's life is at stake here!"

"W-Well—"

"If you do not let go right this instant," she glared at them through gritted teeth, "I will get by with force." They stared in trepidation at the normally cheerful woman, their holds loosening for just a second, but it was enough. She gave one hard tug, and with a flash of shunpo, was two rooftops into the estate. She flew directly towards the presence she'd grown used to during her stay in the Living World and threw back the shouji door with a loud clack. "Orihime-chan!"

The girl rolled on to her side. "...Hnn?"

"Orihime, I need you to wake up right now!" She shook Orihime's shoulders. Her cold hands shocked a bit of wakefulness into the sleeping girl.

"W-Who? R-Rangiku-san?" Her eyes widened. "Rangiku-san! I tried to visit you a while ag—but wait, what are you doing here? What time is it?"

"Listen, Orihime," she took the younger girl's face in her icy hands. The latter yelped, but didn't protest when she saw the look on Matsumoto's face. "I need you to help me heal someone. I don't know if it's doable, but I need you to try anyway. Please, I need you to save him."

Orihime stared at her for just a moment, and then her eyes hardened. "Of course. Take me there, Rangiku-san." Matsumoto squatted down to let the young girl climb on her back and they leapt along the rooftops as fast as the fukutaichou dared to go, finally reaching the Fourth Squad in a remarkable thirteen minutes. They ran all the way to the room Matsumoto had barely left just a half hour ago. Double pairs of eyes widened—the brown-haired girl, sitting next to Gin, looked curiously at the newcomer, while Orihime could only eyeball the man lying on the futon.

"Rangiku-san? This is the person you want me to heal?"

"Yes," she breathed. "I'm sorry, I know, he was one of the ones that imprisoned you in th—"

"It's fine, Rangiku-san," she smiled kindly. "I was just making sure." She kneeled down and put her hand on the kidou box. It disintegrated at her touch and she pulled away the covers. "Souten Kisshun. I reject." A glowing oval of yellow appeared along the length of the ex-taichou's body. Matsumoto stood tensely beside her. "This might take some time, Rangiku-san. Maybe you should get some rest?"

"I've been sleeping for the past two days. I don't think I can sleep anymore."

"Okay then." But despite what she said, when an hour passed and still nothing significant had happened, Matsumoto fell asleep in a stiff, seated position next to Gin.

* * *

><p><em>October 15th<em>

A resounding clap echoed through the room. She'd put all the sadness and hatred and anger she could muster into that one slap. His face was snapped back, cheek already swelling, redness visible even in the faint candlelight.

Silence reigned for a full minute. He was absolutely still, sitting there in his futon, bandages peeking out from under his white under-robe. She stood next to him, chest heaving, fists clenched.

He continued to avoid her gaze. "...Guess I deserved that, eh?"

"You're an asshole," she said disgustedly. "You deserve to die. I never want to see you again. Farewell." She stood up to leave. He didn't try to stop her. "But one last thing, before I leave for good," she muttered, and he still didn't look up. "Tell me why Aizen betrayed you."

There was another long pause before he answered, "'Betray'...is probably th'wrong word." He stared at some spot on the ground, and then as if he'd reached a decision, faced up and met her eyes straight-on. "Yeah. Betray'd be th'wrong word. Since—" his eyelids lifted and she could only stare, "—I was th'one that tried to kill 'im first."

Her eyes narrowed. Her mind raced. She didn't understand.

_He_ had tried to kill Aizen first?

She fell to kneel beside him. "What did you say?" she asked, searching his expression.

He slowly blinked. "I tried to kill 'im. But I failed." A short laugh. "Maybe it wasn't meant t'be me, huh?"

"...I...don't understand. Why would you try to kill him? You went off with him to Hueco Mundo. You betrayed Soul Society, betrayed Kira, betrayed everyone," her voice rose, until she could only shout, "you betrayed _me_ for Aizen Sousuke! Why would you want to _kill_ him?"

A warm hand (so warm, so warm) touched her cheek, and fingers came away wet. She hadn't even realized. "I did it—" he smiled softly, warm like his hands, "—so ya wouldn't have to cry anymore, Rangiku."

Speechless, she watched him, frozen for a long, long moment.

It was those words.

"_When are you going to stop leaving?"_

_He stilled for a second, the smile wiped from his face. "'Till ya don't have to cry anymore."_

His hand dropped, and his smile turned sad. The realization slapped her across the face, a million times stronger than any physical blow could be.

"'_Till ya don't have to cry anymore."_

A drop of wax rolled down the candlestick by his pillow. Finally, she swallowed and placed her hand on his. The stinging in her nose drove more wetness from her tired eyes, and she wept for the misunderstanding. She wept for all the wasted years and all the misery, apologized to all the people he'd ever hurt for her, and apologized for the relief she couldn't contain. Sitting there on the floor, her hand on his, the tears came down without restraint, these blood tears of hers.

"I didn't…I never—" she stuttered through her tears. "I never asked you to do that for me. All I ever wanted was just for you to stop leaving. I-I—" She took a deep breath to stop the constricting of her chest, but it didn't work. "For such a prodigy," she whispered raspily, "you're a fool, Ichimaru Gin." When his hand turned so that their palms could meet, then gave her fingers a squeeze, she knew. They weren't okay yet. Not yet. But they would be, some day.

* * *

><p><em>October 19th<em>

"Former taichou Ichimaru Gin," the voice boomed, a roomful of new Central 46 members looking down at the pair below. "You have wrought a great deal of damage to Soul Society alongside the traitor Aizen Sousuke. For your crimes against the shinigami that you have injured and killed, as well as your treachery, you have been sentenced to imprisonment in the third level of the underground prison, Shugou. You might not have ultimately betrayed Soul Society, but nevertheless, as a part of your plan to destroy Aizen Sousuke, you have committed treason, including participation in the Hollowfication of Hirako Shinji, Ootoribashi Roujuurou, Kuna Mashiro, Aikawa Love, Sarugaki Hiyori, Yadoumaru Lisa, Ushouda Hachigen, and Muguruma Kensei. Such a deed was enough to earn you an eternity in prison."

He only smiled.

"However, due to several testimonies from reliable sources, it has been proved that Aizen Sousuke was indeed your enemy, and that you attempted to kill him. The end does not justify the means, but we cannot ignore the fact that you contributed to Seireitei's war effort against an evil being. We are bound by the King's law that heavy punishment must not be delivered upon any individual that has participated in a war for the sake of Soul Society—this is in accordance to Law Nineteen of Section Five. Hence, we have decided to greatly reduce the time you will spend in prison. Ichimaru Gin, you are hereby sentenced to imprisonment for a full one hundred years."

He watched Matsumoto's fist clench out of the corner of his eye.

"Your zanpakutou will be sealed away until your imprisonment is over. In addition, we will grant you a reasonable favor during the time you will be spending in Shugou. State your favor."

His unperturbed smile twisted into a wide grin, causing some of the Central 46 members to shrink back. "Tha's fine, I don't need any fa—"

"If I may be so inclined," Matsumoto interrupted, looking up at the members grimly. "Would it be possible for him to take visitors during his stay?"

A swarm of whispers buzzed over the group. Then, silence reigned again, and a solitary voice echoed, "If that is to be your favor, then we will allow shinigami of fukutaichou rank or higher to visit Ichimaru Gin."

"I understand. Thank you for your graciousness."

"As for Matsumoto Rangiku, we will pardon you of sentence considering that your efforts saved the life of one that fought for Soul Society, and also because you have demonstrated leadership and courage in your past records. Be grateful of this pardon—the next time you abandon your duty, you will be stripped of your rank."

"I understand," she said, looking at the ground.

* * *

><p><em>October 20th<em>

"Why're you here, Rangiku?" He was sitting cross-legged with his back against the cold stone wall, arms tucked in sleeves.

"Hmm?" She dropped the peels in one basket and the naked oranges in another.

"Ya shouldn't be here, Rangiku," he said, this time quietly.

"I go wherever I want to go, Gin."

"..."

A guard almost walked past but almost tripped over his own feet in front of the bars of the cell. "M-Matsumoto-fukutaichou?" She glanced up from her peeling.

"Yes?"

"Oh! It's nothing," he cleared his throat and straightened his back, then bowed lowly. "It is just that...it is rare to see visitors down here in Shugou. Or on any level, for that case. Please excuse my rudeness."

She smirked at him. "Well, you'd best be getting used to it, then. I'll be coming here a lot." The guard blinked, nodded, bowed a last time, and walked away.

"Rangiku!"

"What?" Her fingers reached for the unpeeled oranges again. He snatched them away from her. "Stop being so childish, Gin!"

"Ran-chan, I don't want ya visitin' me."

"Oh?"

"Ya don't need to be here."

"I told you, I go wherever the hell I please." She lunged for the oranges. He pulled back.

"Stop this already, Rangiku."

"Who are you to tell me where I can or can't go?" She gave up on the oranges and folded her arms across her chest, glaring at him. He watched her wordlessly for a moment, then sighed and handed the fruits back to her, but she put them aside.

"I don't want ya wastin' yer time comin' down here to visit me."

"It's not a waste of time."

"Ya could be off doin' yer paperwork for the little chibi-chan, or drinkin' with yer friends, or trainin', or findin' some nice man to settle down with. Not here. Not sittin' here peelin' oranges for a prisoner. Yer not needed here."

"Well, I'm not needed at those places either. So I choose to be here."

His brow furrowed a little. "Don't be so stubborn."

"You know I am. Don't fight me on this, because this is one thing I definitely won't budge on." No, she wouldn't allow him to escape anymore.

"Yer bein' stupid. Do ya realize what this means?" He looked at her intently, eyes open and serious. "I'm gonna be here for another hundred years, Rangiku. I'm a prisoner. A traitor."

She stared back at him, proud and defiant. "Not to me." His lips thinned.

"I'm a traitor," he stated again, his tone heavy.

Her brow furrowed. "Not to me," she repeated. He closed his eyes, shook his head, and turned away from her.

* * *

><p><em>October 21st<em>

The next day, she returned, and he changed tactics.

"Listen to me." To anyone else, he looked uncaring, his muscles all relaxed as he sat there, but she knew better. "A lot can happen in a hundred years. That's an entire century. Don't waste yer time waitin' f—"

"No." She grabbed his wrist to try to get him to pay attention. "You're the one that doesn't understand. We've known each other for how long now, Gin? A hundred fifteen years? A hundred _fifty_ years? I can't quite remember, but I know it's been a long time, and I know that a century is long. Yet you've devoted all that time to avenge me. I can't just abandon you now."

"I failed."

"So what?"

"Even if I didn't, I don't need ya to stay 'cause of some nonexistent debt. I did it 'cause I wanted to."

"I haven't finished yet. I said that I can't just leave you, but it's not only that. Even if you hadn't left Soul Society and gone with Aizen and all that other crap, I still wouldn't want to leave you. And did you hear what you said just now?"

"...What?"

"You said that you did it because you wanted to. Well, guess what?" She tugged harder at his arm, and he finally looked at her. "I'm doing this because I want to. What if I said _I_ was the one that needed to be here?" His jaw clenched. "Now stop arguing and be a good boy." She could tell by his empty expression that there was a battle raging within him. But a second later, the turmoil disappeared, replaced with a cold look.

"Yer bein' stupid."

* * *

><p><em>October 22nd<em>

"Give it up already, Rangiku," he groaned, sitting against the wall, eyes closed. She stepped boldly into the room.

"I told you, I go wherever I want and you can't do anything about it." When he sighed, the circles under his eyes seemed to darken. Matsumoto frowned. "You should get some rest."

"I don' need sleep."

She pursed her lips and crossed her arms across her chest. "You need rest right now."

"I'm not tired." The woman growled, frustration at its max.

"Bakudou No. 1: Sai." Gin stared at her incredulously, his arms twisted behind his back. She shoved him into a corner and took a seat beside him. "Just sleep, Gin."

"Ya bound me!"

"Because you wouldn't listen to me when I was asking you to do something for your own good. You deserve it," she retorted. The former taichou muttered something under his breath, but she ignored him. They exchanged no words, Matsumoto waiting patiently until he could hold out no longer and his breathing evened out. She gave herself a mental pat on the back and sneaked a glance at him to make sure he was really asleep. Seeing that he was, a slow smile spread on her face and she was about to get up when something caught her eye.

In the corner opposite to them, at the junction where two walls met before cement gave way to bars on the left, there were marks that she hadn't noticed earlier. Careful not to make too much of a racket, Matsumoto crawled closer and realized that they were words, hand-drawn ominously, and yet carelessly, into the thick layer of dust.

君が明日蛇となり

人を喰らい始めるとして

人を喰らったその口で

僕を愛すと咆えたとして

僕は果たして今日と同じに

君を愛すと言えるだろうか

"_If you were to turn into a snake tomorrow and begin devouring humans, and from the same mouth with which you started devouring humans, cried out to me 'I love you,' would I still be able to say 'I love you' the same way I do today?_"

His voice rang in her mind, the same smile he'd given her when he'd said 'goodbye' as clear as if he were standing there in front of her.

She whirled around to find blue-green eyes open and watching her.

"Don't you already have the answer to that?" she asked him lowly.

He gave her a tiny smile. "Yer askin' me?"

She turned away. "Our actions are evidence enough, Gin," she said.

"I've killed people without feelin' the least bit o' regret," he said.

Ah, her eyes widened. So that was why he didn't want her around. "It never occurred to you, did it?" she laughed wistfully. "I guess you're not cruel enough."

"What are ya talkin' 'bout, Rangiku?"

She pinned him with her gaze and for probably the first time in his life, he felt genuine shivers run up his spine. "I would not have problems replying 'I love you'," she replied. "I can't help that I treasure the snake more than the humans he eats. That never occurred to you, did it?" She clasped her hands together in her lap. "It makes me more of a monster than the snake, doesn't it? Especially when the snake knows that what he did was wrong."

He couldn't say anything back.

"Gin, you've killed people. Living, breathing people that had their own families, their own hopes and dreams. You've helped destroy the lives of the Vizards. I know all that, and I don't like it, and it makes me furious and sad that you couldn't find a better way to get to Aizen, especially when you had to throw away the child in you for it. It makes me angry, and I feel bad for those people, but it doesn't change the way I feel for you." She scooted towards him then, and he felt the binding on his arms shatter. This time, she placed her palm against his left cheek. "I was disgusted and hurt because I thought you'd turned your back on everything that I represented, that I thought you represented too." She paused. "Actually, no. That's not completely true. I would have only covered up those feelings by acting disgusted."

What she left unsaid was probably fully understood by him. If he ever had to leave again, for justified or unjustified reasons, she would go with him. If only to persuade him to go back, she would go with him. And if he decided not to return…well then, she would stay with him, because she wouldn't be able to bring herself to let go a second time. This was a person that she had started everything with, a person for which she had become a shinigami, a person that had helped her discover her personal sense of justice. This was a person she had started it for, and a person that she could throw it all away for.

She wouldn't allow a second time.

She would make him understand that it was all right to stay with her.

"You're not a traitor. Not to me, not to the Soul Society that I defend—only to Aizen Sousuke." Yes, she knew that he ruthlessly cut down everyone in his way; that was how he'd survived in Rukongai—it was part of who he was. And maybe because she had once met with that life-or-death choice too, she couldn't blame him for it. Even more so, if he'd done it for someone other than himself.

She might have ended up doing the same.

"If I had to," he said without emotion, "I'd do it all over again."

Her other hand touched his face too. "What you did can't be justified, but I've accepted it. Kira has too, you know. I think that...I think that sometimes, if you care too much, you end up not caring for everything else. It's too late," she sighed, " and I'm not letting go, not when I think I finally understand you after chasing you for all those years." And they were bared to each other for that single moment, ice-blue to aquamarine.

He felt weak, small—the feeling through which he had pressed his finger into the dust of the wall. "Do ya hate that ya love me?" he asked, forcing it out in this rare moment of fallibility.

She smiled, brighter and truer than he'd seen in a long time. "I don't. I don't. Thank you for all that you've done for me, Gin. Please don't make me stop visiting you, all right?"

* * *

><p>And so, the hundred years began.<p> 


	2. Part II

Hi, all! I present to you the second part! Special thanks to katijja, Thunder Claw03, kyurikochan, Zeyro, and unweymexicano! Thank you for the support. *heart*

Part II is dedicated to **VillageIdiot88** and **Nutty Fruitcake**—the first reviewers of this story! Thanks, guys. :D

Anyway, on to the story. Hope you enjoy~! The style is a little bit different from Part I, so I'm really quite nervous about what feedback I'll get. ^-^"

* * *

><p>Story of a Lifetime - Part II<p>

* * *

><p>And so the years did pass quickly...<p>

* * *

><p><em>October 27th – Year 1 of Restart<em>

"Ah, Hitsugaya-taichou, good afternoon!" Kira bowed to the young taichou, who nodded back.

"Ichimaru's in there?"

"Yes, sir. I was just visiting him, so he should be alone right now."

"I see." He set off towards the single, barred cell at the end of the cold cement hallway. Ichimaru Gin was lying on his back, hands crossed behind his head and one ankle resting against the raised knee of the other leg. Hitsugaya pressed his palm to the reiatsu-sensing screen beside the door, and the gate swung open, then slammed shut behind him.

"Ah, Hitsugaya-taichou. How unexpected." The ex-taichou stood up, brushing nonexistent dust off of his white prisoner kimono.

"I won't stay for long." Hitsugaya crossed his arms over his chest. "I wanted to let you know that just because you didn't betray Soul Society doesn't mean you didn't hurt the people in your way. I won't forgive you for having a part in making Hinamori so miserable."

"'Course," Gin said through a fixed smile.

"That's all I came to say." He turned to leave and pushed on the gate, letting it swing open with a creak, before he stopped. "However...I have to admit that Matsumoto has never willingly done so much paperwork. For that, I am grateful." And with a swoosh of his captain robes, the young shinigami was gone.

* * *

><p><em>November 2<em>_nd__ – Year 1_

"I'm not sayin' yer not welcome or anythin'...but aren't ya comin' a bit too often?"

"What are you saying!" Matsumoto stared at him sternly, her hands on her hips. "Of course I'm going to be here as often as I can during your first few weeks, at least until you get used to it!"

"Yeah...but yer comin' here every day. 's that all right?"

"Psh," she scoffed. "When did you start caring that much about responsibility? Besides, you know that Taichou doesn't depend on me to do paperwork. He's used to it by now."

"Poor chibi-chan," Gin said under his breath.

"So. How's life?"

A corner of his mouth twitched up in amusement. "Ya know how I've been. I'm more interested in hearin' 'bout what yer up to."

"Same old, same old," she shrugged. "Lots of clean-up to do, plus a bunch of paperwork to get re-building projects up and running. To put it bluntly, life is boring."

"I'm sure ya'll find somethin' interestin' to do."

"Ugh, but I hate being bored like this. Oh, that reminds me. I smuggled something in for you," she whispered with a wide grin. He raised a brow at her and she reached into her shinigami robes to pull out a deck of cards.

"Oooooh." His eyes widened as she dangled it in front of his face. "Can I keep it?"

"If you beat me. How about two out of three?"

"Deal."

"Let's play poker," she suggested. "I'm good at poker. Shuuhei and Kira always lose when they play against me."

"Aww, that's boring," he whined.

"Well, what do you want to play then?"

"_Strip_ poker," he smirked. She punched him in the arm, but the perverted expression didn't leave his face.

"Are you stupid?" she hissed. "What if someone passes by?"

"Ah, so yer not worried 'bout me seein' ya naked, but about the fact that others will see ya lettin' me see yer nakedness." His smirk stretched even wider when she whacked him again.

"No. I don't intend on losing in the first place," she clarified.

"'That so? Then what's wrong with strip poker?"

She glared at him. "Playing cards without them catching us is hard enough; what will we do if we have to scramble for clothes, too?" Not to mention how suggestive it would look, Matsumoto-devil simpered.

"Kiddin', kiddin'," he teased. "Right, let's get on with this. That deck o' cards is mine."

"You're on."

An hour later, Matsumoto threw down her cards and slammed the gate shut behind her to a snickering Gin. "Fine, you might have won this time, but you just wait! I'll get you back next time!" she growled.

He grinned through the bars and stuck his hand up in a wave. "Bye bye, Ran-chan."

"Tch." She flipped her hair over her shoulder haughtily and stalked away. "I'll see you again in a week," she threw over her shoulder before she stepped out.

* * *

><p><em>March 8th – Year 3<em>

"Ehhhhh? What do you _mean_ I can't bring sake?" Matsumoto whined, fluttering her lashes at the guard.

"U-Um, I'm sorry, Matsumoto-fukutaichou, but alcohol isn't allowed within the premises..."

"Whaaaaat? Isn't it fiiiine? I brought some last week and nothing happened!" She brushed her hair out of the way and leaned down a bit, allowing the man an even better view of her cleavage.

He gulped. "Th-The guard on duty should have stopped you, Matsumoto-fukutaichou."

"But it's not like I'll be causing any trouble. The most I do when I'm drunk is pass out! And if it makes you feel any better," she moved her lips close to his ear, "I'll tell you a little secret about Ichimaru-taichou in there. He doesn't like to drink, so it's not like I'll be giving him any alcohol, right?" She giggled, just for good measure.

"W-Well—"

"Besides, you should know me well enough by now. We've been seeing each other for the past, what, three weeks since you were appointed here? You know I wouldn't cause any trouble. Just me, drinking and chatting with my old acquaintance. And it's not like Ichimaru-taichou could escape, anyway. Not that he'd want to, the lazy ass."

His brow furrowed, the dilemma clear on his face. She smiled coyly and softly put a hand on his shoulder, watched the way he swallowed as sweat trickled down his brow. He sighed. She smirked. Hook, line, sinker. "I understand. Please try not to cause any trouble. If anything happens, there won't be a seco—"

"Of course, of course! Thank you, Guard-san. Ah, wait! I never even asked for your name before. So, what's your name?"

"...It's Nishijima."

"All right, thanks, Nishijima-kun!" She blew him a kiss and flounced into the room. Gin grinned at her from his spot on the floor.

"Good goin', fukutaichou-san."

"Piece of cake. Here," she tossed him a cloth-covered bundle and plopped down beside him with her jar of sake.

"What's this?"

"Open it."

He untied the knot and unfolded the cloth. "Dried persimmons!" he exclaimed gleefully and sank his teeth into one of the orange fruits. She watched him munch happily like a little kid and rolled her eyes.

"You're an idiot."

"Hm." Munch, munch.

"I kind of like this, though," she admitted, slumping against the wall.

"Hm?"

"The fact that you're stuck in prison."

"...Hm...?"

"This way, you won't be disappearing anywhere," she said with a loud laugh, and downed a cup.

"...Hm." He swallowed and licked his lips. "I wouldn't have anywhere to be disappearin' to anyway."

"Ha, like I'd believe that! Even with nowhere in particular to go, you'd still ditch your paperwork and go out on walks around Seireitei, latching on to the first person you see and bothering the hell out of them until they run away."

He picked up a second persimmon and chewed thoughtfully. "Ya know me too well."

"No, I think I'm still learning." She paused, then downed another cup. "That's what makes it exciting."

He chuckled. "What a Rangiku-like thing to say."

"By the way, guess what I was doing for the whole day today before coming here?"

"Seducin' some poor boy?"

"...You know, contrary to popular opinion, I am a pure, untouched woman," she huffed.

He grinned like a wicked fox. "Ah, 'that so?"

"Of course. I'm not loose."

"I know that. But most others don't."

"Yeah, you just watch those creeps get beaten up when they try anything. Anyway, as I was saying, want to know what I was doing?"

"What?"

"I was admiring the new chrysanthemum plants that Kira planted beside your persimmon trees."

He raised a brow. "Izuru likes flowers?"

"I don't know. But they're pretty. And he planted them at just the right time, too. They're all cute little bulbs right now. I can't wait until they bloom."

"I don' think I've ever seen a chrysanthemum flower 'fore," he mused.

"What," she deadpanned. "What kind of world do you live in?"

"Hey, I pay more attention t'people, not the little things litterin' the ground," he said defensively.

"Right," she snorted.

"I'm serious!"

"Well then," Matsumoto leaned towards him. "Rangiku-sama here will show you something wonderful."

She reached into her clothes and pulled out a flower the size of her palm, decorated with millions of small pink petals that spread in a swirl from the center.

"Pretty," he remarked.

"Aren't they? All the other ones were barely even budding yet, but it was just this really odd one that was in full bloom. So I picked it. Don't tell Kira, though." She watched him stare at it. "You know, I was going to keep it and put it on my desk or something, but on second thought, I think I'll give it to you."

"Nah, 's fine."

"No, I'm giving it to you," she said decidedly. "If you're worried about looking unmanly, you can just tell them I gave it to you."

He smirked. "I wasn' worried 'bout that, but I'll tell 'em since ya want me to so badly." They stared at the flower for a little while longer. "Ah," he suddenly said, "it's the same color as yer scarf."

"Oh, you're right," she blinked at it and smiled. "I didn't notice that."

* * *

><p><em>January 12th – Year 5<em>

"I always hated you. I think I still do." Gin opened his eyes to stare blankly at the ceiling. "You always intimidated me, the way you watched people as if you knew everything about them, and the way that you smile. I hated you." Hinamori shivered, rubbing her hands up and down her tense arms, standing as far away from him as she could while still remaining in the cell. "You still scare me, I have to admit. Even when you're not smiling."

He smirked. "Brave of ya t'come all this way to see me, Hinamori-chan."

"I—" Her fists clenched. "I have accepted that Aizen is gone. He was a traitor. I was a fool, but I'm stronger now. Five years have passed, after all." He studied the pattern-less cement of the ceiling. "I was a fool hurt by a traitor. Never again."

Somewhere, deep, deep, deep inside of Gin, the tiny part of him that still gave a damn about anyone other than Matsumoto sank with a bit of pity for this girl that he barely knew. She would probably never trust again.

Hinamori sighed and finally gave up standing, settling down closer to him. "I'm stronger now. I can stay in the same room with you, alone, and tell you exactly what I think about you, even if I did almost die at your hands once."

"Tha's impressive, Hinamori-chan," he replied, rather sincerely. She bit her lip.

"Actually," the girl glanced at him, "I don't know why I'm here. And I expected you to make a lot of scathing comments, but you're not."

"Meh. No energy. It's, what, five now?"

"Aren't you used to it? I'm sure you woke up around this time when you were a captain. You probably had lots of paperwork."

"Nope. Izuru did most o' it. And I usually woke at six."

She pursed her lips, almost angrily. "I don't understand why Kira-kun has forgiven you like this. You hurt so many people."

"Izuru's a good kid. Little too loyal, though."

"I guess Kira-kun's the type of person that cares very much about his close ones, so much that he's willing to sacrifice other people for them." She stared at her toes, experimentally wiggling them.

"Ain't everyone like that?"

Leaning back on her hands, Hinamori impulsively turned her face to the ceiling, as if the stone wall had suddenly grown a sun. Strangely relaxed now, even though the goose bumps were still there, she said lightly, "Yeah. I guess you're right. Maybe Kira-kun's just more honest and willing to show it. He's very happy, you know. That you weren't a traitor or whatever. I think he wants you to be his captain again."

Gin grinned. "Yeah, def'nitely too loyal."

"Thinking about all this gives me a headache," she sighed.

"'Bout what?" he humored her.

"How I should feel about you. I hated you. You were Aizen's accomplice and you helped him betray us. I didn't care whether you died or not. I didn't care at all." She paused, then repeated, "I didn't care at all. But then...but then, I went to see Rangiku-san when you were recuperating, and she was just so...so...and there was Kira-kun too, who was overjoyed at your recovery but tried so hard not to show it because others were suffering and I couldn't help but think that _this man here_, lying helpless on a futon right now like any other soul, is a monster, but people that I care about are clearly happy that you survived and it's all mixed up in my head and I just don't know what to think anymore and Rangiku-san and Kira-kun might be happy, but I couldn't even try to force out any decent feelings for you." She heaved in some breaths, worked up despite herself.

His smile was almost condescending. "'S okay to hate me, Hinamori-chan," he said, five yards across the cell from her, but she heard it as if he was right by her ear. "Nothin' wrong with hatin' someone ya deserve to hate." She scoffed and tucked her legs to her chest.

"You really don't care about anyone else, do you?"

"I just don' care whether or not ya hate me."

"Oh, who am I kidding," she muttered. "There's no way I can hate you when Rangiku-san is so happy because of you. Kira-kun, too. I think you lost your reputation in this war."

His eyes slanted towards her. "'That so?"

"Yes. If word got out that you did it all for one person and one person only, everyone would just treat you as a romantic fool, wouldn't they?" He laughed, and Hinamori was taken aback to see how his face lit up with a disturbing innocence that didn't belong.

"Wouldn't want that now, would we?" he teased.

The next time Gin saw her, she was all poise and manners again, politely calling him Ichimaru-taichou (even if he wasn't anymore), but never visiting him alone, never entering his cell. She had no need to go in; she'd gotten the closure she'd needed so badly during her first and last visit.

* * *

><p><em>November 19th – Year 12<em>

Matsumoto strolled down the hall, waving at the guards that she happened to pass by. When she reached Gin's cell and happened to glance inside, she couldn't help but let out a gasp. Grinning like a maniac, she tiptoed stealthily to the reiatsu pad and put her hand against it. The fukutaichou crept in without so much as a sound, guiding the gate gently closed so that it wouldn't slam.

Gin lay on the floor, his head on the pillow and his thin blanket half thrown off. His breathing was quiet, quiet.

_Over a century ago: August 2nd_

"_Gin? What are you doing?" Blue eyes peeked down at him and he grinned at her upside down, patting the spot beside him. She lay down on the grass and they both peered up at the sky, hands cushioning their heads. "Oh, the stars are clear tonight."_

"_Yeah."_

"_I didn't know you liked star-watching, Gin."_

"_Eh, they're okay. Once in a while."_

"_That's nice. I like the stars, too. Or maybe I like the sun better."_

_He laughed. "Tha's just like ya, Ran-chan."_

"_What about you?"_

"_Hm...I like th'night."_

"_Why?"_

"_Dunno."_

_She laughed, too. They stayed there for a long time, watching the blinking stars, searching for constellations that they didn't know of, had only heard of such things from other villagers. Matsumoto was already lightly dozing, lulled by the rhythmic chirping of the crickets and the faint scent of the grass, when she heard the boy beside her whisper, "Finally." She opened her eyes and was greeted by a shower of white light, as if a thousand stars were suddenly falling from the sky. Her mouth fell open as bouquet after bouquet of light of all colors burst across the dark night, spreading and reaching as far as she could see. White, blue, pink, yellow, green, orange, red, purple, then all the way back to white again. Sometimes, a splash of the entire rainbow would almost block out the darkness. _

_She'd never seen anything like it. She never wanted to tear her eyes away. Just when it seemed like the sky was returning to its original shade, another flurry of dye would explode in front of her eyes, and she drank it up greedily. A canvas graced by only dots of glitter would suddenly come to life, and it was the most amazing sight she had ever seen. _

_When the show was finally over, she breathed in deeply, then let it all out in a whoosh. "Wow." He grinned at her. "That was amazing. So that's what fireworks are."_

"_Never seen anythin' like it, huh?"_

"_Yeah. How did you know they were going to have a fireworks show?"_

"_Saw 'em move here a few days ago. Been waitin' since."_

_She half sat up to glare at him. __"And you weren't gonna tell me?" _

"_I was gonna, but ya looked tired, so I let ya sleep."_

"_Oh." She settled back down. "Thanks. But I'm all good now. Next time there are fireworks, you have to wake me up, okay?"_

"'_Kay."_

_They stared at the sky again, the colors replaying through their minds. Before long, Matsumoto heard the breathing beside her deepen and even out. She turned to see him sleeping soundly, the image of him on the plush grass of a hill in Rukongai immortalized in her mind. She smiled and slowly let her own eyes close._

Present Day

His hand reached up to rub his face sleepily, though his eyes didn't open. "I must be gettin' soft if ya can sneak in on me an' not wake me up."

"I think it's probably the reiatsu-sealing procedure they go through at the main entrance."

"Nah, I felt the little chibi and Izuru comin' from a mile away, even with their reiatsu limited to five percent of its usual."

She snickered. "So it's just me then?"

"Ah." He scratched his head. "Tha' might be it."

"...It's so boring how you just admit stuff like that without even flinching," she said, disappointed. "I want to see you shocked for once."

"Ya surprise me plenty."

"You're patronizing me!"

"But ya do surprise me!"

"Whatever," she dismissed his protests, pulling out a bottle from nowhere, and shoved it in his face, "I brought sake again. Want some?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"But it's Zaraki-taichou's birthday today! Are you sure you don't want to drink as a toast to him?" she goaded.

"..."

"Come on, I know you guys were buddies. Kind of. He was one of the only people that you didn't scare, anyway."

"Tha's nice of ya," he said sarcastically.

"We all know you do it on purpose. Now come on, drink up..." she inched closer to him, the jug edging towards his mouth.

"Okay, okay, I'll drink it. Only 'cause I know ya won't go away unless I do." He stared at the bottle in his face. "Ya want me to do it straight from th'bottle?"

"Huh? Yeah, sure, why not?"

"...Fine then." He took the bottle and held it up. "Happy b-day, Zaraki-taichou," and took a big gulp.

"Ohhhh!" Matsumoto clapped supportively.

"This is stupid."

She laughed. "Don't be such a prude! Give me some, too." They passed the jug around and half an hour later, a tenth of the original amount was left.

"Ya only wanted to use Zaraki-taichou as an excuse to drink."

"Wha's wrong wi'that?" she slurred. "An' I dun get whyyyy you hate drinking when you can hold your al-al—muh?"

"Alcohol?" he offered.

"Alcohol!" She attempted to point at him, but the action made her dizzy, so she let the arm drop. "Uh, wha' was I saying? Oh, yeah. So, whyyyy do you hate drinkin' when y'can hold your alcohol so welllll?"

"What do ya think? 'cause I always end up takin' care o' the drunk ones. Troublesome."

"..."

"..."

"Can you repeat tha'? I wasn't...um...reeeeally listenin'." Then, she promptly passed out on the floor. He sighed again.

"Nishijima? Ya out there?" The guard appeared in front of the gate out of nowhere. "Can ya call for Ise Nanao-fukutaichou?"

Nishijima stared at the woman sprawled on the floor. "Again?"

"Yeah."

* * *

><p><em>December 1st – Year 26<em>

"GIIIIIIIIIIIIIN~!" He tensed from his seated position in the corner, wary of the woman that would come barging in any second now. "MERRY CHRISTMAS!" The gate slammed open with a deafening clang and there she stood, hands on hips.

He relaxed when he saw that she wasn't going to cause him any bodily harm with a violent entrance. "Ain't ya a month early?" he asked.

"I'm going to be leaving on a mission to the Real World for the next two months. So I came here early to give you your present."

"To th'real world?"

"Yeah." She blinked at him. "What's with the look?"

"Huh?"

"I know that look. It means you're not listening to me."

"Sorry. 's just that every time ya go to th'real world, I remember our first mission there," he replied, and shuddered.

_Over a century ago: July 14th_

"_I'm so excited!" Matsumoto squealed, dancing around the small room. "We're going to," she squinted at him and whispered, "the _Real World_. I heard that it's a place of many wonders and odd things that you'd never see here in Soul Society. And they have weird technology, too. I think ours is more advanced, though. Speaking of technology, they have these things that play music right into your ear, as if the live people are actually th—"_

_Gin was lying on the floor, a cloth covering his face. She briefly wondered what he was doing before brushing it off. He was weird sometimes. "Yer bein' pretty dramatic," he commented, his voice slightly muffled._

"_And what were the chances!" she continued, prancing around. "That they'd make us go together!"_

"_Gee, I dunno, maybe 'cause we're new and they're makin' all th'new people go together?"_

"_I can't wait!" she squealed, then proceeded to belly-flop on the poor boy._

_...  
><em>

_She frowned, twisting and turning and experimentally flexing her arms. Her body wouldn't obey her and her skin felt as if it would burn from the hot sun. Her shoes were constricting and uncomfortable against the rocky dirt road. And to add to that, her ears were ringing; the Real World cities were so loud compared to Rukongai or even the Shinigami Academy. "Gin, I don't like this." _

"_What?" he asked, clearly annoyed. Her frown deepened. _

"_You don't have to be so mean. What's wrong with you these days?"_

_He sighed and stopped walking, allowing the others to tread on ahead of them. "Sorry. Just somethin' on my mind. What was it ya didn't like?" She stayed where she was, a few steps behind and to his left, still wary of his mood._

"_No, it's just that," her nose wrinkled, "this gigai is weird."_

"_It needs gettin' used to, tha's all. Don't worry 'bout it, let's go." He turned and resumed his brisk pace. She had to jog to catch up with him._

"_Does yours feel weird, too?"_

"_Kinda," he shrugged._

_He didn't say anything after that, and the silence that ensued was awkward—a foreign feeling to Matsumoto, who had only ever felt comfortable around her friend. She hated it. _

"_Rangiku." A pause. "Oi, Rangiku!" An arm suddenly curled around her waist and then she was jerked back roughly, stumbling into the body behind her. They crashed to the ground, the momentum knocking the wind out of her. She gaped in horror when a violently honking blur barrelled past where she had been standing only a second ago. Adrenaline rushed in her ears. "What the hell were ya thinkin'?" When the grip loosened, she slowly shifted to stare up at a furious Gin._

"_A-Are you okay? What w-was that?" she stuttered. _

"_A car, ya stupid idiot," he spat. _

"_A-A car?"_

"_Metal machine, carries th'humans around. It was easily thirty times yer weight. Ya would've been killed." His words were calm, but it was obvious that he was angry. He was so angry. She'd never seen him so angry before. It was more shocking than her brush with death. _

"_I'm sorry," she whispered._

"_Sorry?" he mocked. "What are ya bein' sorry to me for? Yer the one that would've died."_

_She bit her lip. "I'm sorry for worrying you, Gin." She watched his fists clench so hard that the knuckles turned white, then he stood up and stalked off. She followed behind him at a guilty distance, kicking small stones off the sidewalk. They walked for another five blocks before his hands gradually relaxed, and then he slowed and glanced back at her from across the street._

"_Yer so slow, Ran-chan!" he called. The girl peeked up at him, hoping that his calling her by her nickname meant that all was well between them again. He beckoned with his hand and she scanned to the left, the right, then ran across the intersection and fell into step with him. Watching her from the corner of his eye, he noted the pout and sighed. "Ran-chan?"_

"_What?" she muttered. _

"_Let's ditch 'em."_

"_What?" He grabbed her wrist and took off running from the group that was already a block ahead of them. "Gin, where are we going?" she demanded._

"_Dunno," he threw her a smirk over his shoulder. "Doesn' matter." They ran past white picket fences and quaint little gardens, the houses thinning out to make way for large public buildings. Trees and grass were replaced by glass doors and smooth sidewalks. Before they knew it, they were standing in the middle of the metropolis, where the pedestrian crosswalks were three cars wide and crowds of people on cell phones rushed by. Large billboards and flashing screens mounted on the highest buildings Matsumoto had ever seen were splashed with color comparable to fireworks. There were shops everywhere, mannequins showing off the latest clothing trends and cozy cafés with stand-up blackboards advertising the daily coffee and cake combo. It was the noon rush hour._

"_Oh my God," she breathed. _

"_Wow," he said._

_A mannequin two shops down the street wearing a sky-blue dress caught her eye. She stared at it in wonder, unconsciously pulling the boy with her towards the shop. "Gin, I want that!" He looked where she was pointing, then glanced down at the orange sundress she was wearing._

"_It looks a lot like what yer wearin' now."_

"_What are you talking about? It's totally different! Look at the _color_!" Her eyes glittered as she continued to drag him along. "We can get you something, too. But I kind of like the shirt you're wearing right now. You look good in a white polo. And those black capris. And the beach flip-flops."_

"_I just wore what they gave me. And I dunno what a 'polo' or a 'capris' is," he said, confused. She laughed._

"_All the more reason to go in!"_

__...  
><em>_

"_Ran-chan, we spent all our money. And yer bags are heavy," he complained, hauling half a dozen shopping bags on his back and in both arms._

"_They gave us Real World money so we could spend it, you idiot!" she grinned, skipping down the sidewalk. "And we came here to get familiar with the Real World anyway. I'm sure they won't be mad at us for checking out Real World shops. Oh, look! Ice cream!" She raced to the stand and gestured at the menu, then handed the lady some coins. Gin collapsed at a nearby table, thankful for the huge umbrella that granted him some shade. It was __hot__._

"_Here!" A cup of green tea ice cream was thrust in his face. _

"_Thanks." _

_She licked happily at her own strawberry cone. "So, I was thinking…next, we should go to that side! There are a bunch of cute clothes over there that I really want to try on."_

_He groaned. "More? I thought we were done!"_

"_Don't be so whiny! It's only been…um…"_

"_Three whole hours?"_

"_Oh, really? Okay then, it's only been three hours. I can go for at least another four."_

_He stared at her in horror. "I just suddenly remembered!" he exclaimed. "Th'others are probably lookin' for us, ain't they? We've been missin' for three hours…"_

"_Oh," her eyes widened. "You're right. Do you have a communicator with you?"_

"_No," he lied. "Think we should go look for 'em?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "What?"_

"_I think…you're lying."_

"_What? I wouldn't do that. Why would I lie 'bout not havin' a communicator?"_

"_Because you don't want to carry my bags anymore."_

"…"

"_Okay, hand it over." He reached into his back pocket reluctantly, knowing that it was a lose-lose situation; if the senpai were okay with them wandering around, he'd be forced to carry the bags around for the rest of the day. And if they weren't okay with it...Matsumoto snatched it from his hands. "It's not turned on."_

"_Oops."_

_The communicator almost jumped out of her hands as soon as she pressed the on button. "ICHIMARU! WHERE THE #%! ARE YOU, YOU LITTLE—" Matsumoto winced, holding it far from her ear. _

"_Crap," he said._

Present day

"Oh, that was a good day," Matsumoto grinned, reminiscing.

Gin shuddered again. "That's only 'cause ya blamed it all on me, ya little devil. He made me clean th'toilet for a week."

"At least it gave you something to do, you lazy bum. Anyway, I'm going to be staying with Orihime-chan again. Taichou isn't coming with us this time, though."

"So the chibi's not goin'," he grinned. "Try not to slack off too much, Ran-chan."

"Hey! I wouldn't slack! Keep that up and I won't give you your present."

His eyes lit up. "My bad, my bad. I'll shut up now." He gave her a once-over. "But yer not carryin' anything."

"Obviously. There's no way I'm hauling something that big around."

"Big? Um, Ran-chan, ya do realize that this cell ain't exactly spacious, right?"

"Spacious?" she put a hand on her hip. "You must be getting pretty spoiled if you think this cell isn't spacious. It's only a little smaller than my room."

"Tha' might be true, but if yer the one sayin' that somethin' is big, it's probably real big."

"Nah," she waved him off, "it's totally fine. And you're gonna love me for this."

He was kind of scared. But he wouldn't tell her that. "'course I will." She grinned but didn't move from her spot by the gate. "Aren't ya gonna come in?"

"No, I'm waiting fo—oh!" She turned to her right, addressing someone Gin couldn't see. "Thanks!"

"N-No problem," a new voice wheezed.

"Hm? 's that Izuru?"

"Taichou, good morning." The pale man appeared in front of the bars, dwarfed by the huge white bundle he was carrying in his arms. "Rangiku-san, this is kind of heavy. Where do you want it?"

"Oh, just drop it anywhere in the room." The relieved blond walked in and dumped it gratefully beside the curious Gin. "Well, I've got lots of paperwork today, so I'll be leaving first. I'll see you around, Taichou." He left quickly.

"...Is tha' what I think it is?"

"Probably." Matsumoto beamed. "This place being all cement and cold and hard and stuff, I thought you'd appreciate a proper futon instead of just a blanket and a pillow, you know? Especially since this winter is the coldest one we've had in decades." She finally marched into the room and crouched down to unravel the thick bedding. Tucked inside were three more pillows and a duvet. She looked up when she heard him snicker. "What?"

"Ran-chan, are ya suggestin' somethin' here?" He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She stared at him blankly. "What?"

"C'mon, stop playin' innocent now." He scooted closer to her. "Why else would ya go outta yer way to bring me a futon, hmm?" he teased shamelessly. Her eyes widened.

"Gin, you idiot! I just wanted you to be warm!" Her eye twitched when he didn't budge and just continued to smile creepily at her. An involuntary flush began climbing up her neck. "Argh, forget it!" She jumped up and stomped to the door. "I should have used the money for cosmetics instead!" Muttering to herself angrily as she stomped down the hall, she tried to ignore his laughter.

"Merry Christmas, Rangiku!" he called out after her.

* * *

><p><em>February 2nd – Year 54<em>

"I'm back!"

"Hm?" Gin turned to see a person he hadn't seen for what seemed like a long, long time. "Oh, back from trainin' recruits, Ran-chan?"

"Welcome back, Matsumoto-fukutaichou," Nishijima said.

"Thanks. What were you guys doing?" she asked, curious with their odd positioning: Gin leaning against the bars from the inside and Nishijima facing away, his back ramrod straight, his entire face red.

"N-Nothing, Matsumoto-fukutaichou."

"Aww, no need to be embarrassed," Gin poked his back. The poor guard jumped a foot, then shuffled from reach.

"Please s-stop, Ichimaru-san."

"Why? This makin' ya uncomfortable?" the sly man continued to torment him.

"Okay, now I'm really curious. What's going on?" It was her turn to poke Nishijima.

"N-Nothi—"

"We were just talkin' 'bout his love life, Ran-chan." Gin grinned like the devil, knowing full well how Matsumoto would react to gossip. Obviously, he was right.

She squealed loudly and proceeded to grab the guard in a headlock. "You have a girl you like, Nishijima-kun?" She could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.

"He won't show me a picture," Gin whined.

"What? You have a picture? Show me!"

"No, no. It's not on me," Nishijima wiped the sweat from his brow. "It's at home."

"You'd better have it the next time I come," Matsumoto warned. "So, who's the girl? What's her name? What's she like? What do you like about her?" The poor man almost swooned from all the questions. "Come on, don't be a spoilsport. I know you're a capable enough guard, so don't get all jittery from just a few questions about the love of your life!"

"Please stop assuming things, Matsumoto-fukutaichou!"

"Huh? Then she's not the love of your life?" He sputtered incoherently.

"Don't be so stingy, Nishijima-kun," Matsumoto continued to prod.

"Women don't like stingy men," Gin added good-naturedly.

"All right, all right!" Nishijima gave up, massaging his temples. "She's a girl from the Fourth Squad. I don't know her name, but she's really c-cute. And. Um, yeah. That's all." Matsumoto finally let go of the headlock and aww'd at him.

"Where'd you get the picture if ya don't even know her name?" Gin wondered.

"A friend gave it to me." He sighed. "I feel like some kind of creepy stalker."

"Nonsense!" Matsumoto exclaimed and patted him on the back. "It's a good start. Do you want to try talking to her?"

"I-I don't know if I could keep it from being awkward."

"You'll be fine! You need to at least try!"

"B-But..."

Ten minutes later, the pair from hell had the guard convinced to attempt a normal conversation with the mysterious Fourth Squad girl. He left shortly after that, as his shift had long ended.

"So."

"Hmm?"

"That's what you do for entertainment when you're bored in there?"

"That kid's fun t'mess with."

"You never change."

They stood in comfortable silence for a while, before Gin offered, "Why don't ya come in?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure. By the way," she let herself in and handed him a basket, "this is for you." He lifted the cover and inside was a small snowman the size of his palm, surrounded by four big ice cubes. "It melts slower that way," she explained for the ice cubes.

"Ya made a snowman?"

She nodded. "There are no windows in here, so it's not like you know what the weather is like outside. It's snowing, and quite hard too. I think there might be a snowstorm coming up soon."

"I see." He paused, then smirked. "This snowman looks like some kind o' a shinigami."

"I put a lot of effort into making the lines for the haori. Look, it even has a zanpakutou." She pointed at a sharp, thin, rectangular piece of snow attached to the side of the snowman. He grinned.

"Cute, Ran-chan."

* * *

><p><em>October 10<em>_th__ – Year 78_

"So? What do you think?" Matsumoto twirled around, then struck a pose and winked.

"I don' think ya wanna know what I'm thinkin' right now," he leered, lounging comfortably on his bedding. She slapped him across the head. "Ouch! Ya didn' have t'hit so hard!"

"I'm asking you if anything is out of place, you idiot! I wasn't asking you if I looked sexy, because I know I do," she retorted. "Plus, I didn't really know where to attach this..." she turned her back to him, fingering the velvety red tail.

"Why are ya askin' me this? Shouldn't ya be askin' some other girl?"

"Well, Nanao and Hinamori are busy with paperwork and everyone else is off buying their own costumes. So I figured I might as well come and ask you."

"Hmm." He rolled on to his side to get a better look at her. "C'mere." She shuffled closer and he sat up to fix her tail, bending the thin inner wire so that it curved upwards. "There. Tha's better."

"Oh, that's a good idea."

"Yer horns are on backwards."

Matsumoto reached up to discover that her devil horns were facing the wrong way. "Thanks. Is everything else okay?" Crossing his arms across his chest, Gin leaned backwards against the wall and scanned her slowly from head to toe. The silky red dress had two high side slits that reached her upper thigh and the cleavage dipped down as low as her shinigami uniform did. Black stilettos peeked out from underneath the elegant floor-length skirt of the dress. He frowned.

"Doesn't it kinda...show a lotta skin?" he said skeptically.

"Are you kidding me?" she stared at him. "This dress was the least revealing one I could find. It reaches the _floor_."

"Yeah, but the top goes really low and the slits show all o' yer legs anyway," he muttered.

"Please, this is totally modest for a girl dressing as a devil. Besides, I'm doing this for you. I still remember the way you freaked out the past few years when Kira brought you photos of the Halloween parties."

"How could I not freak out?" he argued. "Flirtin' in yer shinigami uniform is one thing since it has so many layers and it's tight enough that nothin' will accidentally—"

"But you complained about it the first time I showed you, too," she reminded him.

"—But the angel costume was almost see-through, the witch didn' have on bottoms 'cept for nets, the nurse was wearin' _scraps_, the cat—" She smacked a hand to her face.

"You'd think after all those years of Halloween parties from when you were a captain that you'd be used to it by now," she shook her head sadly.

"I didn' go to any of 'em!"

"Right, sorry. I forgot for a second there that you're a wanderer." She sat down beside him and pulled out a bottle of sake, drinking it straight.

"You drink too much," he sighed.

"I have a feeling we've had this conversation before."

He put his hands behind his head, lying back down on the futon. "Ahh~ I miss the Ran-chan that was happy runnin' around in a normal yukata."

"That was years ago."

"It was nice," he said with a dreamy smile.

"I hated that shack."

"Ran-chan's more o' a city girl."

"But I grew to like it. Hey, Gin?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you ever wonder about your past life? You know, like when you were still living in the Living World?"

"Tha's kinda random."

"I don't know, it just suddenly came to mind. So do you?"

"Not really. Can't remember anythin' anyway."

"I bet you were the trouble kid," she smirked at him. "The one that the teacher always had to chase after, the one that put lizards and bugs in girls' desks."

"I think I mighta done that in th'Shinigami Academy."

She rolled her eyes. "I thought so. I wonder what type of person I was."

"Ya wanted to be a model," he said with a certainty that made her want to believe him. "And ya had lotsa guys hangin' 'round ya, wantin' to get close, but ya never two-timed, 'cause that'd be wrong and mean."

She laughed and took another swig. "You really seem to know what you're talking about."

"'Course. Yer Rangiku."

* * *

><p><em>December 20th – Year 99<em>

**Emergency, all fukutaichou and taichou. Emergency meeting, all fukutaichou and taichou, please meet with Yamamoto-soutaichou immediately.**

Matsumoto chased her hell butterfly down through the dark, abandoned streets, her breath coming out in visible puffs. She almost tripped over the one-step stair as she dashed into the room, melting flakes of snow leaving droplets in her bright hair. Twenty-three shinigami turned to acknowledge her. "I apologize for my tardiness!" she bowed, then rushed into place beside her taichou. Yamamoto-soutaichou scanned the two rows of shinigami and nodded in satisfaction.

"Now that all the taichou and fukutaichou are gathered together, we will begin the emergency meeting. This will be made brief. Soul Society has experienced a betrayal not unlike that of the traitor Aizen Sousuke's ninety-nine years prior. It has hereby been confirmed that the 3rd Squad taichou, Tachibana Kokuzoku, and the 5th Squad taichou, Fukumiya Sakuranshin, as well as five other shinigami who have been posing as mere seated officers, have defected. Hinamori-fukutaichou, your report."

"Yes," the petite girl stepped up. "I have been questioning Fukumiya-tai—Fukumiya Sakuranshin's motives for a while now. Sometimes, she would disappear for no reason at all during the night, and I would see her carrying out whispered conversations with shadowed figures. At first, I had thought that it was some personal matter, until the words 'take over' and 'throne' reached my ears. It was no normal conversation, and so I attempted to listen in further, but they stopped before I could get closer. That was a few days ago. Yesterday, I thought to confront Fukumiya Sakuranshin, but she attacked me. I was able to fend her off long enough to call for help. That was when Abarai-fukutaichou and Iba-fukutaichou appeared, and she escaped then."

"Understood." Hinamori stepped back. "Now, Kira-fukutaichou, your report."

"It was a similar situation. In my case, however, I tried to bind Tachibana Kokuzoku with kidou before he ran off, but he broke it after a quick struggle, although it was an eighties-level kidou performed with the incantation. He escaped after that and we have not seen him since."

"Understood. Now, we have deduced that fortunately, none of these seven shinigami are at Aizen Sousuke's level, although each are at least on par with members of the Espada, if everyone can still recall those warriors we fought long ago. Based on numbers alone, it is clear that we cannot ignore this threat to the safety of Soul Society. Their motives have not been confirmed as of yet; however, it remains a fact that part of the mistake lies with Seireitei—the background checks on these shinigami was not thorough enough. This is undoubtedly our responsibility. Hisagi-taichou."

"Yes," he stepped forward.

"This will be your second mission and first major battle as a captain. We look forward to seeing you perform at the level of such."

"Yes." He bowed and stepped back.

"Hinamori-fukutaichou. Kira-fukutaichou."

"Yes!"

"You have done well in dealing with this case. The Central 46 and I have duly noted your worth. However, neither of you have reached bankai; no matter how capable or experienced, we cannot make you taichou at this moment, with such an emergency in our hands. Nevertheless, it is true that we are in need of as many seated shinigami as possible. We have made the grave decision to appoint temporary captains for your squads, in hopes that the damage caused by Aizen will not be reflected in this war for a reason such as insufficient power." Eyes widened across the room.

"Temporary captains?" Matsumoto whispered to Hitsugaya. "Is that a good idea?"

He closed his eyes. "It is a decision made by the soutaichou and Central 46. I believe that it was a much-debated decision, but it is true that we require as many capable shinigami as possible."

"Where would we find temporary captains at such short notice?" Renji spoke up. "Those with bankai, no less?"

"For the Fifth Squad, we believe that it is reasonable for this person to step up. Even though he remains in the academy at this moment, it is only to brush up on his kidou. Every single person in this room should know how capable he is." A crunch of footsteps on snow sounded outside the door, and the twenty-four shinigami turned towards the entrance of the meeting room.

A shock of orange hair met their gazes, and then steadfast brown eyes looked up. "Whoa!" He jumped back. "Is something happening? Why is everyone gathered here?"

"Kurosaki Ichigo. You will aid in the war effort against the traitors."

He gaped. Rukia, from her position beside Ukitake, rolled her eyes. "Get in here, fool. We're in the middle of an important meeting." Still completely stupefied, he sauntered over to her side anyway. Matsumoto waved at him.

"What's happening?" he whispered.

The smile dropped from her face. "Traitors," she informed him grimly. "Seven of them, Espada-level. We have to defeat them."

His mouth fell open again. She hurried to fill him in on the details as Yamamoto continued his long talk.

"And finally, our replacement for the Third Squad taichou." Matsumoto paused in her conversation with Ichigo when a flutter of white and black robes caught her eye. She straightened and cast a glance over at the newcomer that strode unhurriedly into the meeting hall. Her eyes widened at a sight she hadn't seen in a hundred years.

"Nice t'see y'all," Ichimaru Gin drawled with a grin, Shinsou once again strapped securely to his waist, his crisp captain robes donned for the first time in a century, the sharp "three" printed boldly on its back.


	3. Part III

Heeeey, everyone! It's been so many days; I'm sorry for not updating sooner! I was on vacation, and then stupid Hurricane Irene delayed my flight. x.x I never thought I'd become so attached to this story, but it turned out that I was thinking about it the entire time I was there, haha. My family started wondering what the little scraps of paper I was randomly scribbling on were about. O_o

Here's to my AWESOME, AWESOME reviewers: **ALittleBitOfHocusPocus, Carol00, Nutty Fruitcake, Boobie-Chan, Miggyrow, A lilmatchgirl, Lilly, banshee196, splitheart1120, and BessieTheNinjaCow!** And also thanks to Lillith Love INC, talkstoangels77, Random Fanfic Fan, Aralorn, 20z20 for the support! Your encouragement has brought me this far. :DD

Oh, just a little something: I know I've said this before, but I would really suggest paying close attention to dates (or at least the years) for this Part III. It can get a little confusing if you don't...

Note:

amazake – a weak type of alcohol made from rice that people traditionally drink on New Years.

Hanami – flower-viewing festival

nee-san – big sis (blood-related or only as a figure)

oji-san – uncle (blood-related or only as a figure)

obi – the belt of traditional Japanese clothing

Anyway, I present to you the super long Part III! To be honest, I intended to separate it into two parts because it really is quite long, but I couldn't find a suitable cut. So here you go. XD

* * *

><p>Story of a Lifetime - Part III<p>

* * *

><p><em>April 3<em>_rd__ – Year 123_

"And so, amidst the fury of battle and fast-paced excitement, Ichimaru Gin was accepted back into the Gotei 13 without trouble, one year before his term was officially over," she finished happily.

"What happened after that?" Several pairs of watery, dreamy eyes were trained on her, hands clasped together at chests, the girls clinging to her every word.

"They lived happily ever after. Life goes on, you know." There was a collective sigh of adoration as the room filled with pink hearts.

"How did you even know this story, sensei?" one of the students asked.

"Oh," she smiled, brushing long brown strands out of her eyes. "I became good friends with Matsumoto-fukutaichou. I was one of the people healing Ichimaru-taichou." They all gasped and crowded around even closer, squealing and nearly burying the teacher in the middle.

Footsteps led to the door being slammed open, and the glamorous Matsumoto made her untimely entrance. "Shizuka, there you are! Wh—" She cut herself off when the predatory eyes of fifteen new Fourth Squad recruits whipped towards her. "I recognize those eyes of gossip," she muttered under her breath, backing away.

"MATSUMOTO-FUKUTAICHOU!" She was promptly engulfed by a sea of frantic young girls, all shooting questions in a frenzy.

"H-Hey!" the bewildered woman flailed, "I can't answer anything if you mgmph—!"

"Wasn't visiting the jail scary?" one girl wailed, the crowd calming just enough for Matsumoto to resurface and gasp in a breath.

"Muh? What jail?"

"Yoshida-third-seat wasn't very detailed in her recount of the story! I heard that Shugou is a hellish place crawling with lots of icky bugs and stuff—"

"No...it was just a room encased in cemen—" When her eyes narrowed in realization, Shizuka stealthily ducked behind the tallest girl of the group. She peeked over a shoulder to see Matsumoto's head, just barely floating above the others, twist towards her menacingly. "Shizuka! Have you been telling these kids about me and Gin again?"

Above the storm of giggles (she called him _Gin_!), Shizuka could only manage a barely audible, "Stories like that have to be passed on!"

Matsumoto rolled her eyes. "All right, all right, girls. This is getting way too stuffy for me. Sit down." They all shuffled backwards, then dropped to their bottoms obediently. She cocked a hip, holding up a finger. "Now, I will answer your questions, but only to dispel those stupid rumours out there. Also because I know how gossip can make your life so much more exciting. Hands up." Fifteen hands shot up and she smirked. "Okay, okay. I only have two minutes, so make this quick."

"How tall is Ichimaru-taichou?"

Her brow furrowed. "That's random. I don't know for sure. Six feet? Six foot one? Something like that." They ooh'd. Tall guys were good.

"Was Ichimaru-taichou okay during the war? The one with the seven traitors?"

"Of course. He took out one by himself and another with my help."

"But wasn't he confined for a hundred years? How did he even remember how to _fight_?" one of them asked doubtfully.

"Actually, I'm wondering why Ichimaru-taichou even went to the effort of taking them out. Isn't he the lazy type?" another added.

Matsumoto grinned. "You newbies are a breath of fresh air. A hundred years really isn't that long. And just because your zanpakutou is sealed doesn't mean you can't practise by yourself, or that you can't communicate with it. You just can't make use of its power." They ohh'd in understanding. "And you're right, he's renowned for his laziness, but I think he was bored all cooped up for a hundred years."

"When was the first time he told you that he loves you?" The giddy group giggled, patting the girl who'd asked the question in approval.

Her grin widened. "Ichimaru-taichou's not the typ—"

"When did you fall in love with him?" A particularly glittery-eyed girl cut in.

"Huh?" she blinked in surprise, then put a finger to her mouth, thinking back. "Well, that's a secr—" She froze. The students blinked when she glared towards the closed front door.

"Come on out. I know you're there." Their eyes widened in alarm and they whirled around, hands on their zanpakutou hilts, but their mouths dropped when the shouji door slid open with a clack.

"Aww, Ran-chan, ya ruined my fun." Ichimaru Gin was leaning against the doorframe, hands tucked in sleeves. "I wanted t'know the answer to that question, too..." and he grinned, looking like the devil. There was a mass squeal heard all the way in the Thirteenth Squad, where Rukia looked up from her paperwork:

"ICHIMARU-TAICHOU~!"

* * *

><p><em>June 28th – Year 123<em>

"And then they all attacked him with glittery hearts in their eyes and really personal questions," Matsumoto sighed, flicking away a stray lock of hair with the hand that wasn't carrying a stack of paperwork.

"Ichimaru-taichou's oddly popular with the ladies, isn't he?" Hinamori mused. She gave quick nods to the squad members that bowed to the pair as they traveled the long hallways to the Third Squad fukutaichou's office. "People judge in a split second, but the way they look at each other can make a one-eighty in an instant, too."

"Yeah. It's quite frightening, isn't it?"

"Sure is. I think most sane people are still wary of him, though."

"The smart ones."

Hinamori shook her head. "Some people have such weird taste..." An awkward heat slowly crawled up her neck when what she was saying and who she was saying it to registered, and she scrambled to make it up with, "Oh! But, um, Ichimaru-taichou does have his good qualities, of course." When Matsumoto sighed again, obviously not listening, Hinamori glanced up at her in concern. "What's wrong? You keep sighing, Rangiku-san."

"Huh? Oh, sorry. I didn't notice."

"...Is it Ichimaru-taichou?" Matsumoto looked away. "Speaking of Ichimaru-taichou, I haven't seen him lately," the shorter girl commented.

"That's because he's on a mission."

"Oh, I didn't know that."

"Yeah, he left while you were on yours."

"When is he coming back?"

"...I don't know," she admitted.

"What?" Hinamori asked, surprised. "He didn't tell you?"

"He was supposed to come back in three weeks, but..."

"Well, how long has it been since he left?"

"Three months." Hinamori almost dropped the pile of paper.

"Three months? Isn't this kind of bad then? You don't think...that something bad happened?"

"I don't know. Yamamoto-soutaichou said that he hasn't received any word from Gin and that I should just continue on with my duties."

"B-But—" Hinamori sputtered. She personally couldn't care less, but Matsumoto had obviously been brooding about it for a while now. "He's late by over two months! This isn't good. So, wait, the last time you talked to him was..."

"It was the conversation I was telling you about just now. He went to the Fourth Squad barracks to look for me and tell me that he was leaving."

This time, it was the Hinamori's turn to sigh. "Are you sure you should just be waiting for him?"

"He's a taichou; he should be fine," Matsumoto waved it off, but Hinamori thought that it sounded a little strained. "He's probably just using the excuse of a mission to stay out and have some fun."

"...You're right. That sounds like something Ichimaru-taichou would do." Matsumoto returned her smile gratefully.

The two reached an already open door, shielding their eyes from the bright sunlight that made the room shine. Hinamori balanced her stack in one hand and knocked on the wooden doorframe. Kira looked up from his desk. "Oh, Rangiku-san, Hinamori-san! Thanks for bringing that all the way here."

"No problem," Matsumoto replied.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in a long time, Kira-kun. How's work?"

"Same old, same old. Hisagi-san is a lot busier than me nowadays."

"Ha, probably not that much busier, though. You practically don't have a taichou," Matsumoto deadpanned. "Speaking of your taichou, any news from him yet?"

Kira frowned. "No, sorry, I haven't heard anything yet." His frown deepened as he watched Matsumoto struggle to keep up the unconcerned facade. "Um, would you like a cup of tea before you go?" he offered. "Oh, and just drop the paper on my desk. Sorry, it must be heavy."

"Thanks, but I'll pass the tea," Matsumoto replied as she walked over to his desk, Hinamori following behind her. "Taichou's expecting me back immediately."

"Kurosaki-taichou's waiting for me, too," Hinamori piped up.

"I see," Kira said, a little troubled. "Too bad. Hisagi-san brought me some rare English tea and I didn't really know what to do with it."

The two women laughed. "We'll come over some other time, Kira. Thanks for the offer."

"Bye, Kira-kun." The pair treaded down the quiet the hallway, back the way they had arrived from, chatting about inane subjects. It had been a while since Matsumoto had had the chance to talk properly with her friend, and she was happy they could catch up. They had already turned the corner to a hallway leading away from the complex when Matsumoto suddenly stopped, her entire body tense. "Rangiku-san?" Hinamori looked back at her, tilting her head questioningly.

"Do you feel that, Hinamori?"

"Feel what?" she asked, but then her eyes widened. "No way."

"He's finally back," Matsumoto whispered. She turned to a nearby window and slid open the circular pane to see him approaching the squad barracks from a distance, talking with a girl from his squad. She breathed a sigh of relief when she squinted and saw that none of his clothes were ripped, and no sign of blood.

"Hey, it's Ichimaru-taichou!" Hinamori exclaimed on her tiptoes, peering out the window. "Isn't that great, Rangiku-san?" she beamed.

"Yeah, it is."

They watched him for another short second, then Matsumoto turned to close the window again when she caught the odd look on her friend's face. "What's wrong, Hinamori?"

"Huh?" the girl looked up a little too quickly. "Nothing."

"Are you sure? You looked pretty upset just now."

"No, no...it's nothing. It's just that...I don't know." Her lips thinned. "I don't like that girl."

"You mean the girl that Gin is talking to?" Matsumoto questioned. They stared at the pair that gradually neared through a shortcut in the garden. "Why, what's wrong with her?"

Hinamori gaped up at Matsumoto with horror. "Rangiku-san, can you really not see it? That girl is so obviously interested in Ichimaru-taichou!"

The woman blinked at her annoyed companion before chuckling. "I don't have the time to worry about every girl that has a thing for him. Besides, he's not the type of person to, you know, get hooked like that."

"But I see her clinging to him all day," Hinamori mumbled. Matsumoto raised a brow. "It's true. The Fifth Squad is close to the Third Squad, so I see Ichimaru-taichou pretty often, and those two are unusually close. What I mean to say is, do you really see Ichimaru-taichou so comfortable with the rest of his squad mates? They even went on the mission together." Alone, she kept herself from saying.

"I'm sure it's only professional. Besides," Matsumoto put a hand on her hip, ran a hand through her hair, and declared airily, "I'm prettier than her."

Hinamori couldn't help an amused smile. "Of course, Rangiku-sama. But still...I don't know. I have a bad feeling. She's got to have _some_ nerve to be hitting on the one man every single shinigami in Soul Society knows is taken."

"It's not like we're dating or anything," Matsumoto objected absently.

"Exactly. You're past that." Both women flinched when the Third Squad girl blushed cutely and put a hand on the taichou's shoulder. He didn't seem to notice. "...That kind of makes me angry," Hinamori grumbled uncharacteristically.

"Ugh, she's so fake," Matsumoto muttered. "There's no way he'd fall for something like that, the sly bastard. But it pisses me off anyway." Hinamori nodded in agreement.

The two women jumped when their object of study suddenly turned to look straight at them, past the long expanse of the squad garden, past the persimmon trees lining the walls.

"Ran-chaaaaaaaan~!" he called, raising his hand in a casual wave. "I'm hooooome!" Matsumoto grit her teeth and slammed the window shut.

"Let's go, Hinamori." She stomped away moodily.

Tch, acting like everything was okay, Matsumoto thought to herself. Whatever. Who cared about the bastard anymore. She should have expected it, anyway.

* * *

><p>"No one's ever scared of me anymore," he whined. "'s like I'm a saint or somethin'."<p>

"I believe they call these types of people 'idols' in the Real World," Matsumoto remarked. "And don't get ahead of yourself. You're no saint, that's for sure."

"C'mon now, Rangiku," he sidled up to her, "tha's all in the past. I haven't hurt anyone good since that war, ain't that true?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Let's get us some sushi." Gin followed her to a restaurant that was glowing in the evening air. Red paper lanterns decorated the tiled roof and a thin cloth hanging from the door presented cheerful bold characters: Naonozushi. "Huh? Isn't that Shuuhei?" A dark-haired man had lifted the cloth and was stepping out from the restaurant with a blond man. "Shuuhei! Kira!" Matsumoto called out, waving.

"Oh, Rangiku-san?" The two men faced her as she headed for them, Gin trailing behind at a leisure pace. "What are you doing in the Second District of Rukongai?"

"Ichimaru-taichou here owes me a dinner because I won a bet," she said. "What about you?"

"I was sent to supervise some newbies kill their first hollows."

"I went with him," Kira added.

"Yeah, stole my fukutaichou, eh, Hisagi-taichou? I had to sign all th'papers myself today, right after comin' back from my mission, too."

"Wow, you did it all, taichou?" Kira stared at him. "No way. I thought for sure I'd find a huge pile on my desk tomorrow morning."

"How rude, Izuru! I can do my job when I need to!"

"Okay, okay, let's go get us some dinner," Matsumoto grabbed him by the elbow. "Oh, one thing. Kira, I kind of glanced through the documents that I gave you today before taking them to you, and I didn't really find any mistakes. Were they okay? Taichou would kill me if I missed something."

"Yeah, they were fine. Thanks."

"Okay. See you guys around."

"Bye," they echoed.

She dragged Gin towards the sushi restaurant, not really hungry but craving her sake. "We eatin' at this restaurant?" he asked.

"Yeah. Shuuhei eats anything, but since Kira came with him, we can probably rest assured that it's not a bad place." They were seated at a small table far in the back of the shop by a cute waitress in a crane-printed yukata. She took their orders and left a large bottle of sake on the table. Matsumoto sighed contentedly, downing a much-needed cup.

"So. How was the mission?" Resting her chin on her folded hands, Matsumoto fixed him with all her attention.

"Entertainin'."

"I see," she smiled tightly. "Is that why you were gone for so long?"

"Uhh...yeah?" he tried, and scooted his chair back just an inch, hoping she wouldn't notice. She only leaned closer, grinning with teeth. He gulped.

"Do you know how long you've been gone now? Hmm?"

"Th-Three months?" he guessed.

"Correct, my friend." He tentatively pushed her sake cup closer to her, praying that she'd get distracted. "And do you know how long the mission _should_ have taken?"

"I...uh, I can't remember," he lied.

"Three _weeks_." Her smile stretched wider, if possible. "It was supposed to take three weeks, Gin, but you stayed out there for three _months_." He laughed awkwardly, but sealed his lips shut at the murderous glint in her eye. "Everyone thought you were dead. But not me. Because I know you, and I told you that you wouldn't be back within the month."

"My bad, Ran-chan. At least ya get a free meal from this, right?" She glared at him until he squirmed in his seat, then sighed and slumped back. "Rangiku?" He peered anxiously at her when she downed another cup and slid, boneless, down the chair.

"I'm tired."

"I didn' mean to worry ya."

She scoffed. "Who the hell worried about you? I knew you weren't dead."

"Won't happen again—I promise." He stuck out his pinkie.

"Right." Matsumoto ignored the peace offering and brushed a casual hand through her hair. "Well, it's all in the past now. I'm starving. When's the food going to get here?"

"Rangiku, it really won't happen again. I didn' think ya'd be so worried, so I took longer. It was a nice change to be outta Seireitei and away from all th'uptight shinigami." His pinkie beckoned for her. "Ran-chan?"

"Sorry," she gave him a small smile. "I wasn't trying to nag or anything. It just came out. You don't need to apologize for something that I have no right to criticize you about, so let's just forget about it, okay?" His hand slowly withdrew, and she watched it go. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, the waitress arrived with a plate in each hand.

"Amaebi?"

"That's me," Matsumoto said.

"Then the ikura would be yours, sir?"

"Ah, yeah."

They ate in silence that night. Matsumoto finished her sake, and Gin held the door-curtain up for her as she passed under his arm. They strolled through the still-bustling streets, sandals familiarly grazing against the dirt ground. There was a slight breeze that night, gently stirring the town. Matsumoto couldn't help a comforted sigh. "It's been a while since we've just relaxed like this."

"Yeah." Their hands brushed, but neither reached for the other's. Walking together, side by side, the two shinigami enjoyed the lack of trouble and fights and blood and shinigami obligations, enjoyed the tranquility. They were halfway through the First District of Rukongai, could already see the looming gate leading into Seireitei, when Gin suddenly stopped. Matsumoto passed a few steps ahead of him before noticing and turning back.

"Gin?" She blinked and he was suddenly in front of her, then they were in a narrow, secluded alley between the backs of two buildings. "Gin?" she tugged at the hands on her shoulders. "What are you do—"

"Marry me, Rangiku."

The world froze around them. In that one single moment, Matsumoto could sense everything around them with perfect clarity: the far-off forest behind the village, the half-moon in the sky, wind against her face, and the faint scent of flowers in the air. Not a single soul nearby.

"What?" she whispered.

"Marry me, Rangiku," he repeated, his grip tight, aquamarine depths gazing into her bare blue ones.

She couldn't speak. Her mouth opened, closed, then opened again. Her mind was absolutely white. After a tense moment of waiting, she managed to croak out, "G—", then cleared her throat. One of his hands left a shoulder to rest on the rough wooden wall beside her head. The other drifted up to her jaw. "Gin," she tried again, distracted by the hand. "I don't thin—" and he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers.

The breath left her as if she'd been punched in the stomach. Her lashes fluttered as she watched his closed eyes helplessly, felt his hair brushing her cheek. Then, his slightly chapped lips moved gently against hers, and it was like fire suddenly flared from her heart to reach all the way to her toes, her fingers, her blank mind. Her eyes slid shut. Arms reached up to wrap around his neck and she pressed her body as close to him as she could possibly get. The hand on her jaw stroked absentmindedly, then slid down to her waist as his strong arm pulled her flush against him.

Her lips parted, closed against his, and she tried to breathe through her nose but found that it took too much concentration when she could only feel his mouth on hers.

It was their first kiss. _Her_ first kiss, ever. Barely standing in that dark alley of Rukongai, under the stars, nearly melting into the person she loved the most in the entire world, she realized that she'd been wrong. She'd been wrong to think that she didn't need physical contact when their relationship transcended the physical, had crossed that boundary long ago; she finally knew in that moment that she'd never been mature enough for a purely spiritual relationship—not when an exploding thrill raced down her spine at the simple movement of his lips, not when she could be thrust to this new emotional height.

Her head spinning, she was finally forced to part from him when the lack of oxygen threatened to knock her out. Her eyes slid open and she watched his do the same, blue-greens studying her as he inhaled softly. They were so close that she could breathe in the clean-laundry scent of his skin.

He smiled at her and she felt the thumping in her heart take off again. "...So?" he whispered.

"Wh-What?"

He laughed and asked for the third time, "Will ya marry me?" Fingers stroked down her back, and she tried to hide the trembling of her knees.

"Stop that," she complained.

"Why?" he murmured. His other arm reached down to steady her against him.

"Just...stop it." He laughed again. The spring breeze ruffled their hair. "Um, before I give you my reply..." he raised a brow in question. "Why do you want me to marry you?"

He shrugged. "Rangiku's the only one that'd ever put up with me. We're practically married, anyway."

"We are _not_."

"Yeah, we are."

"No, we're not. We don't live together. No, before that, we aren't even dating."

"We're past datin', Ran-chan."

Something about that phrase rang a warning bell in her mind. She'd almost forgotten the incident entirely, because she trusted him with everything in her, she truly, truly did. Really, she hadn't meant to. But something...something small and biting and spontaneous caused her mouth to mindlessly blurt out, "Who was the girl that went with you on the mission?" She slapped a hand to her mouth when his gaze turned incredulous.

"I'm tryin' to propose to ya right now, and yer askin' 'bout my mission?"

Her jaw clenched. It was too late to back out now. "Who was the girl?" she persisted.

His brow furrowed. "My sixth seat. Why does it matter?"

"She irritates me."

"What are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"She likes you!"

"Wha—" Matsumoto rose on her toes to push her lips against his, opening up to him easily, allowing him to take her in.

When she broke away a moment later, all he said was a short "Oh," and then blinked when the realization dawned on him. "That's what this is 'bout."

Matsumoto looked away, embarrassed and more than just a bit ashamed. "What's her name?" she muttered. When he didn't answer, the woman looked up to see him with a very distracted and confused look on his face. Then he sighed, as if he'd given up on something, and leaned down to brush his mouth over her cheek.

"Can't remember," he confessed, his hands hot on her back. "Mura-somethin'. Too many shinigami names to memorize. Can't remember right now."

She stood there, still for a loaded moment. He almost felt the need to fidget, but then she stated resolutely, "Yes."

He paused. "What?"

"I said 'yes'."

"...Ya said yes?"

"Yeah, that's what I said."

"...Ya mean, yes to my question?"

"Yes."

"..."

She tapped her foot impatiently. "Hello? Anyone in there?" The arms around her suddenly tightened and her face was stuffed into his shoulder. She grinned and twined her arms around him, too. "I'm guessing there's no ring, huh?"

"Nope, sorry. Split-second decision."

She sighed. "Well, I'll wait then."

"After I marry ya," he said lowly, "ya won't be afraid that I'll never come back anymore, right?" Her heart jumped into her throat, but she didn't say anything. "Rangiku," he sighed almost sadly. "Yer always afraid I'll disappear somewhere, even now that Aizen's gone. If marryin' will let ya believe that I'll always be bound to ya, I'll do it. Might as well." He paused, then repeated, "Yer the only one that'd ever put up with me."

Her fingers curled tighter around his shoulders at the undertone:

_Grow old with me._

* * *

><p><em>January 1st – Year 123<em>

She crunched as softly as she could on the layer of snow that cloaked the slumbering garden. Grateful for the crescent moon that illuminated her way, she trod to the three-step stairs, carefully measuring each stride to avoid slipping on ice. Brushing the snow off the hood of her thin coat, she slipped out of her sandals, slid open the shouji door, and entered the shadowy room.

It was cold. She fumbled with a match, lighting a candle that was sitting on a desk in the farthest corner of the room, and curled up next to it.

She waited.

Patient drops of wax rolled one by one down the candle, nostalgic for a vague memory from far in the past. The natural light cast a cozy aura about the room, gently flickering with orange life. It was so peaceful. She enjoyed ordinary days like this.

In what seemed like a few short minutes, her ears perked at the sound of footfalls outside the door. It slid smoothly aside to reveal a white-clad figure in the dark of the night, eyes trailing up to meet with hers in surprise.

"Rangiku," he said.

She answered, "Gin."

He slid the screen shut behind him, cutting off the moon's shine. "I thought I felt ya here, but I couldn' be sure 'cause ya never come see me after ten." She pulled back her hood and patted the spot beside her. Still watching her with concerned curiosity, he settled down between her and the area where he'd usually lay out his futon. When she still didn't say anything after a while, he prodded, "Rangiku? Somethin' wrong?"

She glanced up at the ceiling. Familiar lines of wood. "How often do you go out on these midnight walks?"

"Whenever I feel like it."

"Is it because you can't sleep?"

"Nn...sometimes. Other times, I stay up late. Now and then I wake up in the middle o' the night for no reason at all."

"I see. Do you ever come look for me when you walk around?"

He turned to her, more than a little confused. "Not usually. Really, Rangiku, what's botherin' ya?"

"If you ever feel lonely, or tired, or bored or sad or mad or anything else," she faced him too, "it's okay to come to me. I'd like it if you did."

His brow furrowed, as if he didn't understand the meaning of being lonely, tired, bored, sad, mad, but he replied honestly, "'Course, yer the first I'd go to." She smiled warmly at him.

"Thank you, Gin."

They sat there wordlessly for another moment, and by then, Gin had given up trying to figure out what she was doing there. She had a whimsical spirit, and as long as nothing was truly bothering her, then he was fine with that.

Okay, scratch that. His curiosity was getting the better of him. "So nothin's wrong?" he asked, but it sounded more like a statement.

"No," she said.

"Gettin' cold feet?"

"About what?"

"I dunno, the wedding?"

She grinned at him. "Do I seem like the type to get cold feet for a wedding? If anything, you're the one that should be getting cold feet. It's approaching, quicker than you think—only seven months away now."

"Nah," he waved off her teasing. "Split-second, but all my decisions are like that."

"I honestly would have been fine without a marriage. Or even with just a certificate, or whatever it is that makes marriages official."

"I know," he said simply. "But ya like flowers and clothes and friends and stuff, so I thought ya'd like a ceremony. Catch is, yer organizin' it all."

She snorted. "Yeah, organizing and decorating don't suit you. Remember that time you tried to decorate for Ch—"

"Let's leave th'past in th'past," he suggested. She smirked, but didn't say more on the subject.

"Anyway, I thought I'd come by because I was bored," she said by way of explanation, a little too late.

"Bored? At one-thirty in the mornin'?"

"Yeah. Is that a problem?" she turned threatening eyes to him.

"No, ma'am. I'll entertain ya for as long as ya want."

"Good. This is the first time in a long while that I've woken up in the middle of the night."

"Is it?"

"Yeah. Then I happened to glance outside from the window, because you know I like to keep the window open, right? And I saw that it was snowing and that the moon was pretty, so then I was reminded of your hair because of the color, and I came."

He grinned. "'That so?"

"Uh huh. I'm just saying, but is your room always freezing like this?"

"Ya cold?" he asked. His question was answered when she shivered involuntarily, but she said,

"No."

"Liar."

"I'm not that cold," she shrugged. "But what if I said I was? Would you give me your captain's coat?"

"But then I'd be cold."

She laughed fondly. "You should learn from Shuuhei. You know, to be more of a gentleman."

He smirked at her. "Ya know I ain't no gentleman."

She hummed in agreement and admitted, "I find gentlemen boring anyway. So, want to let me stay here for tonight? I'm too tired to run all the way back to my division."

"Ehh? Ya wanna stay here? But ya never stay, so I don' have an extra futon or anythin'."

"That's fine. I'll just curl up here." She shifted around for a more comfortable position, nestling into the corner, the candle still burning beside her. She hadn't even noticed that she was exhausted until that moment when she closed her eyes, settled against two walls and her jacket the only thing to keep her warm. But that was okay. Because he might not have been a gentleman, but she knew that even if she protested against it, she'd wake up the next morning engulfed in thick blankets that smelled of him, his captain's coat wrapped snugly around her. And he'd most likely be long gone. "Gin?" Her voice was almost inaudible, already on the brink of sleep.

"Hmm?"

"Wanna...go to the shrine together...tomorrow? New Years...and praying...and...amazake..."

"Sure." She smiled and drifted off into her dreams, already warm with him beside her.

* * *

><p><em>September 7th – Year 124<em>

Matsumoto raced through Seireitei, a group of crazed, screaming, _squealing_ fangirls on her tail.

No. She refused to give in to these gossipers, no matter how terrifying they were. And they were quite terrifying, mind you.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" she shouted back over her shoulder. But they persisted, eyes glowing with demonic light and gaining ground by the second. She contemplated using shunpo but concluded that to use it in such a situation would make her a laughingstock.

Suddenly, the breath was torn from her when a hand shot out, wrapped around her wrist, and tugged her into a hidden alley. She stumbled inside just as the trampling crowd ran past in a rage. Hands on knees, she gasped for breath. "Thanks, you totally just sa—" she looked up to see a face she hadn't seen for a month. "Gin!"

He gave her a small wave and grinned. "Yo, Ran-chan. Long time no see."

"When did you get back?" she asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"Jus' got back from reportin' to Yamamoto-soutaichou."

"Oh, I see. Welcome home," she smiled.

"Thanks. So what was that insane group jus' now?"

She rolled her eyes and complained, "You'd think they would have given up after two months of trying, but they're still after me. Are the details of our wedding really that interesting to them? I mean, I totally understand the need for gossip, but _some_ things need to be kept private, right? Don't you agree? I didn't invite anyone besides people we're actually close to for a reason! They're so persistent!"

"...Interestin'."

"By the way, did you know? I just found out a few days ago, but apparently, there's an official GinxRan fanclub. Some people just have no lives," she huffed, and flipped her long hair over her shoulder.

"Ooooh," his eyes widened. "Do ya think they'll let me join?"

She couldn't decide whether to slap him or to throw her head back and laugh, so she settled for staring at him like he'd grown another head. "Now that is a stupid idea if I've ever heard one. You'll probably be raped."

"Wh-What?" he recoiled. This time she did laugh, and really hard, before clamping her mouth shut, remembering their stalkers. He smirked at her and stepped forward. "So, Ran-chan," a little too close to be comfortable. "Did ya miss me?"

"What's this all of a sudden? It's only been a month," she quipped.

"Hmm…_only_ been a month, eh?"

"Yeah. Plus, all you ever do when you're here is annoy me anyway, so there's not much to miss."

"That hurt. Yer so mean, Ran-chan." He took another step, but she took one back.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"What do ya think I'm doin'?" She kept retreating, but her back eventually hit the wall. His grin widened and he leaned in so close she almost went cross-eyed looking at him. He placed his hands on either side of her head, deceivingly gently, but she knew from experience the strength behind the move.

"C'mon...be a good girl and open yer mouth a bit..." he coaxed. She held her breath, afraid that if she breathed, their lips would touch, and then she'd lose for sure. He watched her for a moment, then smirked and evaded to the side. Her eyes narrowed when he began sucking languorously on the skin just under her ear.

"Why do you do this every time you come back from a mission?" she berated half-heartedly. "Just because it was a long one this time doesn't mean we should be doing this in public..."

"_I_ wouldn't mind doin' this out where everyone can see, but Ran-chan wouldn't like that, right? Tha's why we're in the alley." His right hand roamed down her side, her hip, then back up again.

"You little bastard..." she muttered, her entire body stiff. He stopped sucking and moved so that their faces were hairbreadths away again, grinning wickedly.

"Tha's right. Now are ya gonna open up, or will I have to convince ya?"

She stared at his slits of eyes, then decided to just give up. Oh, what the hell. They were married anyway. She let her mouth open just a little, and then his lips were on hers, his tongue slithering into her mouth. A soft noise escaped her throat and she tilted her head to just the right angle, wound her arms around his neck. He smiled darkly against her lips, pushing her harder against the wall. Her heart thumped erratically. The adrenaline from the possibility of being caught flooded through her (imagine her taichou finding her doing this when she was supposed to be doing paperwork!).

"Gin, um," she got out between kisses.

"Hm?"

"I—think we should—stop—"

"No."

"G-Gin—" she wanted to punch him, step on his toe, pull away to teach him a lesson about being so _pushy_, but she didn't want to stop—

"Why," he whispered, allowing her some room to breathe. "Ya got somewhere to be?" Her mouth went dry at the husky tone.

"Well...I…have to do my paperwork?"

He chuckled quietly. "Ya know well as I do that the little chibi ain't expectin' ya back for today," he said, then nuzzled his face into her neck.

"B-But—" she cut herself off when he suddenly froze and cursed. "What?"

"I forgot to give somethin' to Izuru."

Matsumoto breathed a mental sigh of relief. "Okay, go give it to him."

"I don' want to. It's not important." She glared at him. "...Fine, fine. I'll see ya later tonight. Bye, Ran-chan." And then he was gone. She was left with an oddly empty feeling. The devil on her left shoulder kicked her, calling her a moron. The man came like the wind, and left like the wind. She shook her head with a small smile and turned to meet, once again, the eyes of starving _demons_.

"There she is!" Matsumoto gawked at the group, now twice its original size, staring at her from the mouth of the alley, practically drooling.

"Dammit."

* * *

><p><em>February 14th – Year 125<em>

"Like I _said_, I'm noooooooot druuunk, for the last time!" she slurred, throwing up an arm that probably would have knocked him out had he not dodged.

"Yes, yes," he sighed, fumbling with the woman that refused to stay still in his arms. "Yer not drunk, I get it."

"So that's what I've been saaaaaayin'! Finally listening to me, huuuuh?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, concentrated only on making it back to their room in one piece. The ground was still slippery with leftover ice from the last snowfall, and if he dropped her—he shuddered at the thought—all hell would break loose.

Gin paused when his bundle stopped struggling and fell silent. Wondering if she'd finally passed out, he looked down to see that she was still wide awake, but with such a solemn expression that he briefly wondered if she was sober. "Ran-chan?"

"Gin," she said, devoid of all slur. "What time is it?"

"U-Uh," he stuttered, something he wasn't used to, startled by her sudden shift in composure. "'round midnight?"

"Where are we?"

"Third Squad. Ya went drinkin' with Nanao-chan 'cause she was depressed 'bout bein' alone for Valentine's or somethin'. We're almost home now...but," he studied her face carefully, "are ya all right?"

"What do you mean?" she narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Uh...well, don't ya have a headache or anythin'?" he asked cautiously.

"I told you, I'm not drunk."

"...Oh."

"Bah, forget about other things for now."

"Huh?"

A coy smile was painted across her face as she wrapped an arm around his neck, then pulled him down so she could suck on his earlobe. "Play with me."

"Dammit," he groaned. "I shoulda know ya got to th'lusty phase. Stupid, stupid me."

"C'mooooooon," she whined, and pressed her chest against his. "Play with me?"

"No," he said firmly, tugging at her arm. "When yer sober again, yer gonna kick my ass. Like last time."

"I won't, I promise!" This time, both arms wrapped around his neck and she clutched at him like a lifeline. "I won't, so play with me now!"

"No," he insisted, voice muffled. "If ya don' stop, I'll be forced to knock ya out."

She pulled away and gaped at him in horror. "You-You'd knock me out?" Her voice was small and weak, but he knew she was only acting. The little minx was a terrific actor.

"I would."

"You _wouldn't_." She smirked and ran a hand down his chest. Her fingers were almost at his obi when he reached up and knocked the edge of his hand against the back of her neck. She fell limp in his arms and it was finally peaceful.

"Sorry, Ran-chan, but yer the one that wanted me to do this."

...

When her eyes cracked open and she found herself in bed with a man, the only thing she could think was _Oh my God, I really did it this time_.

Until the rest of her mind came back to her, and she remembered that she'd known this man her whole life and had been married to him for the past year. Not to mention that she was still clothed in her under robes.

His breathing was almost silent, like usual. She'd watched him sleep a couple of times, back when they were young, and then again when he'd been locked up in that gray room. Though for some reason, this was different. Here, she had no advantage.

There was no moon that night, but still a bit of natural light flowed in from outside. She could hear the crickets chirping, sense the tranquility of this place that looked nothing like the shack she'd lived in long ago, but reminded her of it nevertheless. To her far left side was a low table strewn with papers. To her right, Gin, lying on his side and facing away from her.

For some reason, whenever he rolled over or happened to sleep on his side, it was on the side that would take him away from her. She wondered if he was simply used to sleeping that way.

Matsumoto rolled to her right side, too, and poked his back. He stirred a little, but otherwise didn't respond. She grinned and shuffled closer so that she could feel his back pressed against her. She couldn't feel his skin and that kind of bothered her, but this was nice once in a while.

"Ya still drunk?"

Matsumoto started, instinctively jerking away from him. "Y-You were awake?"

"Nah, ya woke me with yer pokin'," he said, and she could tell without looking that he was probably smirking. "Ah, I get it. Ya poked me to make sure I was asleep so ya could cuddle."

"I don't _cuddle_," she said disdainfully.

"I see," he turned to her, grinning widely. "I guess it was just chilly then, eh?"

"Yeah. I was cold."

"Are ya still cold?"

"...No."

"Hm. Well, I am."

"Oh. Okay." She blinked at him as innocently as she could when his gaze turned expectant. "Sorry, was there something you wanted?" In the dimness of the room, her eyes caught a flash of white teeth before she was dragged towards him. She draped an arm around his waist and tucked her head under his chin. "Oh, so this is what you wanted. You could have just asked, you know."

"Right back at ya." She blushed, the hated evidence of embarrassment crawling up her neck and blooming on her face.

This was stupid. _She_ was stupid. It was too hot to be sleeping so close together. And she shouldn't have been blushing at something so trivial. It was all so cliché, and Matsumoto Rangiku was not a girl that tolerated clichéness (was that even a word?). She was a full-fledged woman that could hold her own in battle, and she never submitted to anyone. Especially not this fox.

"Ran-chan, stop bein' angry and just sleep. Ya tired me out today with yer drunken antics."

"I'm not angry," she muttered. "And sorry for being drunk. You knocked me out like I told you to, right?"

He sighed. "That was depressin'. Why can't ya just let us have some fun? I can't believe I have to knock out my own wife 'cause she won't let me do anythin' when she's drunk."

"I told you, that's not the point. The point is that right after that, I'll puke all over the place. Seriously. It would be disgusting. So you might as well just knock me out."

"Stop gettin' drunk then."

"Easier said than done."

"...Ya know what, I'm gonna sleep now."

Matsumoto yawned. "I'm sleepy, too. Good night."

"'Night."

* * *

><p><em>April 20th – Year 126<em>

"That's odd. He's not here?" Matsumoto wondered to herself as she slid open the shouji door and peeked into the office. "Gin? Are you here?" Only silence answered her. "So he's really not here..." Oh well. She'd just wait for him then. He would probably wander back in soon enough, seeing as it was getting dark outside. Whistling, she strolled into the room, sliding the door shut behind her and heading for his desk. Drawing a finger along the smooth wooden surface, she walked around it and plopped down in his chair.

The room looked much like any other office, except for perhaps the lack of much paperwork on the taichou's desk. Instead, there was an overflowing pile on Kira's desk. Poor kid, Matsumoto lamented. Having to deal with Gin as a taichou could be exhausting, what with his disappearing tendencies. But she supposed Kira was already used to it.

Matsumoto sat there for at least another twenty minutes, at first just examining the room before beginning to fidget. Fingers drummed against the table and she hummed absentmindedly, squirming in the chair when the twenty minutes turned to thirty. Where the hell was he? She was bored! If only she'd brought her nail polish with her...there was that beautiful new shade she'd bought just a day ago...

By the time the minute hand had gone two full circles around the clock, Matsumoto had given up being impatient and was passed out on the chair. She didn't hear the door slide open, or the quiet steps that made their way towards her.

"Nn…stop it…" she muttered, brushing away the hands that were shaking her.

"Ran-chan, wake up."

"Shut up…" she swatted at him. "'m tired…"

He sighed, and she tried to ignore the sound of rustling clothes that pierced her sweet dreams. "I'll talk to ya later then." When the footsteps faded away, her eyes snapped open, dragging her back into reality.

"Gin!" she exclaimed, shooting up from the chair. He looked back at her from the door that was already half-open.

"Oh, yer awake now?" He slid it shut again.

She rubbed her hands over her face, trying to dispel the grogginess. "Where were you? It's already ten."

"I was out on my patrol. I told ya yesterday, didn' I?"

She blinked. A vague memory was tugging at the back of her mind…something…about a late night patrol in Rukongai…

Oh.

"Y-Yeah, of course I remember," she scoffed and crossed her arms. "I just didn't think it would take so long. You promised me some good food for dinner."

"That was 'fore the patrol time was decided," he reminded her, hiding a smile.

She coughed awkwardly. "…You know what, whatever."

"Ya haven't eaten yet?" Her stomach grumbled and he laughed at her sullen expression. "Guess not, eh? Well c'mon then, let's get a late night dinner. And after that, I wanna show ya somethin'."

"Okay," she acquiesced, smiling sheepishly.

* * *

><p>"You're not getting anything?" Matsumoto said through a full mouth, waving her fork at him.<p>

"Nah, I already ate."

"Oh, okay." He leaned his head on his hand and watched her munch happily on the salad, mercilessly crunching the croutons.

"You're being awfully quiet today," she commented, and stabbed a piece of celery.

"Hmm. Got somethin' on my mind."

"Huh, is that so. That can't be good."

"Hey, wha's that mean?" he protested.

"Last time I saw you pondering like this, you were thinking about Aizen and about leaving. Care to enlighten me?"

"Ya'll find out soon 'nough." She stared at him suspiciously as a waiter dressed like a butler took her empty salad plate.

"Would you like your dessert now?"

She didn't even look at him, far too engrossed in her worst-case-scenario imaginings. "Yeah, that would be nice, thanks." He nodded and left.

"Is it something bad?" she ventured, unconsciously leaning forward.

"_I_ don't think so, but I dunno what ya'd think 'bout it," he said cryptically.

"You're making me very curious."

"Well, it's nothin' drastic," he said dismissively. "Just enjoy yer cake." The waiter returned with her slice of low-fat chocolate cake and placed an extra set of utensils beside Gin.

"Hmmmmm...ah, well, whatever. You want some?" He took the fork and cut off a bit of the tip.

"Oooh, smooth."

She nodded in agreement. "This is a nice French restaurant. I feel kind of awkward in my shinigami robes. Everyone else is in evening gowns and suits."

He shot her a perverted grin. "I think ya look good even in that plain shinigami uniform." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Help me finish the cake."

* * *

><p>"Ya have to promise that ya won't freak out on me," he said for the third time as they approached their quarters, a cozy little house hidden near the Third Squad barracks.<p>

"All right, all right already. I get it, so stop saying that. You're only making me m—" her eyes widened and she grabbed his sleeve as he reached out to open the door.

"Rangiku?"

"Gin, someone I don't recognize is inside," she hissed.

"Tha—wait, Rangiku!" She threw the door open and barged in, hand ready on the hilt of her sword. A whimper from the right caught her attention, and though the room was unlit, she could just barely make out a little girl with wide eyes sprawled on the floor.

"What the hell…?" Matsumoto murmured. She pulled in a lantern that was hanging near the door, holding it up to illuminate the room, but never moving closer. She faltered when she saw the girl's eyes, big and round and…nearly the same shade as Gin's. Her hair, just brushing her shoulders, wasn't silver, but a blank shade of white.

"P-Please don't hurt me," the girl pleaded.

"So I told ya not t'freak out," a voice sighed behind her. Matsumoto turned to glare at him.

"You're in for some serious explaining," she said grimly.

"Eh, well, I was out patrollin'…and I picked her up," he said, scratching his head.

When Matsumoto didn't respond, the girl inched a little closer, pretty certain that the pretty lady wouldn't hurt her. "T-The mister saved me!" she added timidly. "Some scary men were chasing me and the mister took me away from them! Without the mister, this Aiko would be dead by now!"

"You…picked up a child in Rukongai." Matsumoto said slowly, studying spirited eyes that reminded her so much of something she couldn't quite place a finger on.

"Yeah. Doesn't she remind you o' someone?" he smiled, stepping beside his wife, and murmured, "She looks just like ya." Her mouth fell open. The shape of those eyes, the slightly chubby cheeks that would smoothen with time, and locks that weren't wavy like hers, but shoulder-length as well.

"Wh-What?" Matsumoto whispered.

"I couldn't leave her," he admitted. "Not when she looks so much like ya."

"Please," the girl said, and sunk into a formal sitting position. She bowed her head to the floor, palms pressed to the ground. "Let this Aiko stay here. I will make sure not to cause you any trouble. I don't want to go back there anymore. Please don't leave me all alone."

"_Gin? Where did you go? Why didn't you tell me?"_

"_Gin, why did you leave me?"_

Matsumoto swallowed and took a step towards the girl. Then another. And another, until she was standing right in front of her. The woman crouched down and laid a hand on her little head. Blue-green eyes peeked up at her, watery with tears. "It's all right now. I understand. Everything will be okay." She smiled with warmth that came from the bottom of her heart. The tears overflowed and Aiko tackled her, arms around her waist.

"Thank you, miss. Thank you."

Gin grinned from behind them, propped against the doorframe.

* * *

><p>And so life did continue with their new family...<p>

* * *

><p><em>April 25th – Year 126<em>

"Is she truly unrelated by blood to you, Matsumoto-fukutaichou?" Nemu said in her flat tone, staring blankly at the little girl running around the room.

"Yeah. She came from Rukongai."

"Oh my God, she is so adorable!" Hinamori cried for the fifth time. "I want her!"

"She really does look like your child." Nanao pushed up her glasses, her eyes following the child. "And Ichimaru-taichou's. Look at those eyes. They're almost the exact same color. This is quite uncanny."

"Soooooo _adorable_! Aiko-chan~" Hinamori couldn't resist any longer and she reached out with open arms. "Come to Hinam—no, actually, just call me Momo. Yes, that's right. Call me Momo."

Aiko screeched to a halt in front of her. "Momo?" she asked. "Momo-neesan?"

"Okay, okay," Hinamori nodded giddily. "Whatever you want! Momo-neesan sounds terrific! I've never had anyone call me Mo—hey, what's that you're holding in your hand?"

"Oh, this is for Rangiku-san. Rangiku-san! Look, I picked this for you today when I went out!" Aiko rushed to the woman and proudly presented a small bouquet of little purple flowers.

"Oooh, how pretty!" Matsumoto exclaimed, patting the girl's head, who beamed at the attention. "Did you steal them from Kira-niisan again?"

"Yeah! That oji-san needs some excitement sometimes. All he does all day is sit at his table writing stuff!"

Matsumoto burst into laughter and gave Aiko a noogie. "That's my girl!"

"Say, Rangiku-san?" The woman stopped messing up her hair and blinked down at the suddenly bashful girl that was kicking the ground. "Is it okay if I call you Ran-chan? Rangiku-san is kind of long…"

"Nope, sorry." The two turned to see a figure at the doorway of the Tenth Squad taichou's office. "Only I can call her Ran-chan," he grinned. "Think up somethin' o' yer own, Ai-chan."

"Gin-san! When did you come back?" she dashed to the door and launched herself at him. He caught her around the waist as she grabbed his shoulders, short little legs wrapped around his middle.

"Just now. Yo, Rangiku. Miss me?"

"You wish," she snorted. "Come in and help me do my paperwork."

"Ya always say that, but ya know the chibi-chan will get angry if I touch his precious paper."

"Who are you calling a chibi?" a low voice groused behind him. Gin turned around with a surprised look on his face.

"Oh, sorry, Tenth Squad taichou-san. I didn' see ya there," he said lightly, a smirk on his face.

"Save your lies for someone that cares, Ichimaru. And stop calling me a chibi, for the last freakin' time. That was a long time ago."

"Ah, my bad, my bad. Guess I'll just call ya Hitsugaya-taichou from now on."

"Whatever. Move." Gin sidestepped away from the doorway while Aiko stuck her tongue out at Hitsugaya as he passed by.

"I don't like him," she whispered loudly.

"I know," Gin whispered back. A vein popped on the Tenth Squad taichou's forehead.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Ichimaru?" he growled.

"Eheh. Well, I'll just be leavin' now. See ya later, Ran-chan," he crept off with Aiko still wrapped around him.

"Bye, Rangiku-san!"

* * *

><p><em>May 1st – Year 132<em>

"How do we look?" Matsumoto and Aiko twirled around. The woman was dressed in a light blue kimono printed with white clouds and pink sakura blossoms, while the girl wore a purple kimono that had rainbows of fireworks exploding in random bursts.

"Cute," said Gin, and he grinned.

"Yay!" Aiko made to jump on him, but Matsumoto pulled her back.

"Not so fast, young lady. Go grab our bags and fans while I do up this useless one's yukata ties."

"Roger!" The girl ran out of the room. Matsumoto turned to Gin, her fingers deftly finding the concealed pieces of cloth that made sure his yukata wouldn't fall open.

"I feel like an idiot doing this for someone that can clearly do it by himself," she muttered under her breath.

"Ya know ya like it."

"No, you're the one that likes it."

"Yeah, but ya like it too."

"I do _not_."

He smirked.

"Ugh, shinigami robes are so much more difficult to tie up than this and yet you can't be bothered to do this yourself." When she secured the last knot, pulling it tighter and more violently than she had to, he handed her the obi, much to her chagrin.

"Meh. Now that I got someone to do it for me, I don' wanna do it. I always hated doin' up the shinigami robes."

"Hmph. Treating me like some servant." Her hands snuck around his waist, then tugged, watching in twisted pleasure when he coughed.

"Ya tryin' to kill me?" he wheezed, a hand clutching a nearby table. She cackled evilly.

"Deal with it, princess." Aiko pranced back into the room with hers and Matsumoto's bags, a matching fan tucked in each.

"Is Gin-san done?"

"Almost," Matsumoto smiled, and loosened the obi just enough for him to breathe. He inhaled gratefully. Aiko wandered over to him, curious and wanting to help, and he rested his arm on her head with a breath of relief. "Hey, don't use my Aiko as an armrest."

"She doesn' mind, do ya, Ai-chan?"

"Nope," she beamed up at him. "Please use my head as an armrest whenever you like, Gin-san!" When he grinned down at her, Matsumoto groaned and slapped his chest.

"What in the world are you teaching her, you slave driver? Isn't Kira enough?"

"But she doesn' mind," he protested.

"Can we go now?" Aiko fidgeted. "I wanna see the sakura!"

"Yes, yes, we're done now," Matsumoto sighed, finishing up the knot. "Let's go."

The little family stepped out of their house and headed for the Eighth Squad, where streams of people dressed in traditional clothing were trickling into the gardens. The large grass clearing was hidden by a spread of red-white-checkered picnic cloths, and clusters of sakura trees were allowing their humble petals to elope with the breeze, bright against the night.

Aiko stared with huge eyes as swirls of flowers blew overhead, taking in the stars, the people, the laughter. Even in the years to come, she would never get over the enthralling aura of hanami. With a delighted laugh, she pranced off towards a group of shinigami she knew too well.

Matsumoto watched her go with a soft look in her eyes. "She's growing up pretty fast, isn't she? Look at her, all pretty in her little kimono. She's going to be a lady soon."

Gin kept silent, but he led her to an unoccupied spot a ways from the little girl and sat her down, then left and returned with a bottle of sake.

"Thanks," she smiled up at him, taking it from his hands.

He smiled back. "Ya always surprise me. Ya make a better mother than I'd ever imagined."

Normally, she probably would have snapped at him, but she didn't feel like it that day. "I didn't think I could do it," she said honestly. "But it's been six years now."

"And yer doin' just fine." He settled down next to her cross-legged, arms tucked in sleeves.

"So are you. You don't do much, but she likes you so much," Matsumoto laughed. "I don't know how you do it." She took two cups, poured one for herself, and offered him the other one. "Want to toast?"

He took it without second thought and clinked the glass against hers. "What are we toastin' to?"

"Umm...okay, we're toasting to us. To our health and happiness. Oh, and since we're at it, also to Hinamori and Nanao-chan, because they got me awesome souvenirs from the Real World."

"Okay," he agreed with an easy grin. They downed their cups in one gulp, then, distracted by the impulsive wind that decided to sweep petals into their hair at that instant, didn't notice the sweet alcohol warm their throats.

_Over a century ago: May 1__st_

"_They're called sakura, right?"_

"_Yeah. I got it from th'village o'er there," he pointed towards a gathering of houses further down the dirt road that she could barely make out._

"_For me?" She turned big, hopeful eyes up to his._

"_Yeah. Keep it."_

"_Thank you!" she exclaimed, and threw her arms around him, almost knocking him off-balance from his squat. "It's so pretty!"As she studied the pink flower, something tugged at the back of her mind—something familiar. He tilted his head at her expression of pure concentration._

"_Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"_

"_Say, Gin...have you ever been to hanami?"_

"_Hanami, eh?" He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I don' think I have."_

"_I think I might have, once." She fingered the flower's smooth petals._

_His eyebrows rose. "How was it?" _

"_I can't really remember." Her face scrunched up, chasing after a memory that wouldn't return. "I think...I think it was really pretty. It was nice."_

"'_That so?" he said with a foxy grin. "Well then, we'll just have t'go together sometime then, won't we?"_

_Her eyes lit up. "Okay! Let's go next year then!"_

"_Sure. I think th'higher districts o' Rukongai will have hanami next year."_

"_I can't wait. Thank you, Gin." She beamed at him and he smiled back._

_That night, she dreamt of a field of sakura, and stars in the sky._

* * *

><p><em>August 15th – Year 145<em>

"Gin-san, Rangiku-san. I want to become a shinigami." They stared at her, chopsticks halfway to their mouths. Around them, the busy restaurant continued to teem with life, dim light and the delicious smell of ramen soup adding to the sentimental atmosphere.

"Aiko," Matsumoto said, putting down her chopsticks. "I'm not really sure if I agree with that. The only part of shinigami life you've seen so far is the quiet part, the paperwork part. You've never been on a battlefield, and you don't know what fighting is really like. It's dangerous. It's not fun."

"I know. But I want to do it anyway," she replied simply.

Matsumoto furrowed her brow. "Why?"

"Twenty years have passed since you've taken me in. I think I'm old enough to take care of myself now. I want to have the power to take care of myself, and in doing that, protect you and Gin-san, too." Matsumoto couldn't think of anything to say. Hadn't she, after all, once been in a powerless position as well? Hadn't she yearned to protect her close ones, too?

She looked to Gin. "What do you think?"

"I knew this day was comin'," was all he said, and then he shook his head, patted Matsumoto's hand, and picked up his chopsticks again.

Matsumoto looked down at the table, thinking for a moment, before she consented, "All right. All right, it's your decision to make. I understand. But please don't do anything rash, and always, always be careful, okay? And if you ever have any questions, we can help. You have a taichou and a fukutaichou here for your ideal mentors."

"Thank you, Rangiku-san," Aiko beamed at her, just like she always did.

* * *

><p><em>February 18th – Year 147<em>

"Gin?" she whispered into the darkness. "Are you awake?"

She heard him hum in response.

"I'm worried."

He laughed quietly and rolled over to face her. "Yer such a worrywart, Rangiku. She'll be fine."

"I-I don't know. I have a bad feeling. It's her first hollow-hunting mission, after all. Anything can happen..."

"Ya know the possibility of injury on th'first hollow mission is two percent, right?"

"Yeah, but it's still two percent! Remember that hollow simulation thing Momo and Kira and Shuuhei had to do, the one where you had to go in to save them? What if that happens again?" Her eyes shone with a sharp light reflected from the open window behind her. He reached over and stroked her back in comforting circles.

"Stop worryin'. If that happens, we'll just have t'go save her then, won't we?" She shifted closer to him, the weight of his arm calming her a little. "I bet she's havin' the time o' her life right now. We trained her good, so don't ya worry."

"...You're right. I'm worrying too much. She'll be fine." Matsumoto closed her eyes and pressed her face to his chest. His hand combed through her long hair soothingly.

"'Course. I only bring home th'best girls." Her lips pulled up in an unwilling smile and she slapped him on the arm.

* * *

><p>Aiko came home safely that night, and if she weren't more battle-hardened, Matsumoto would have wept from the relief.<p>

What she hadn't anticipated was that fifty years later, a disaster far more potent than a silly hollow mission would fall upon Soul Society, destroying the lives of many, along with half of Seireitei.

* * *

><p><em>September 29th – Year 197<em>

Matsumoto heard Aiko's zanpakutou drop to the ground with a ringing clang, and when she whirled around, saw it all with perfect clarity, a moment that would forever be burned into her memory. Eyes widening, her mouth opened in warning, an arm that would never reach on time stretching towards the two of them, far away.

And then there was a sickening sound of flesh being penetrated, the crunch of bones.

"Gin!" she cried out. "Gin, no!" and could only watch helplessly as three swords pierced into his body from the front and two sides. Blood poured out in rivers and he was barely even conscious anymore, but she saw his red-stained lips move in a silent whisper:

"Kill, Kamishini no Yari."

Three bodies fell to the ground around him, ending the war, and he slumped down, fallen on his knees, the zanpakutou protruding from his body. Behind him, Aiko stood frozen in shock, the horror that was creeping into Matsumoto's chest reflected on her face. Her white hair was dyed red, her zanpakutou lying useless on the ground.

"_Gin!_" Matsumoto flew to his side, an arm around his shoulders to keep him from falling backwards. "No…no," she choked on her tears. "Not again. Not again." His eyes slid open, the blue-greens already dimming, and he didn't even have the strength to lift his hand anymore. She had to lean her ear close to his mouth to hear what he was saying.

"Rangiku...I'll...be…goin' on...ahead…" and then his eyes closed for the last time.

The tears sliding down her face were thick and so, so wet. They blurred her vision as she wrenched each of the three swords out of his body, as smoothly as she could. And then she held him in her arms and sobbed for a long, long time, until the medics arrived and she could cry no more, until his body grew cold.

How it could have all fallen apart so easily, she didn't know.


	4. Part IV

Sorry for the long wait, everyone. Well, here we are! This is the end. Thanks for sticking by, and this is directed to any future readers of this story as well. I hope it left you with something worth remembering. I sure feel as if the story wrote itself, and not the other way around!

Here are my final thanks to my lovely reviewers: **Onba, Boobie-chan, Mayuzu, Wuchen 5, Miggyrow, Nutty Fruitcake, Carol00, Random Fanfic Fan, **and** splitheart1120**. Thanks to Santa1, Ditto's Ditti, Jessie Luna, rexiebones, kogasgal27, Madgod, Deer-Shifter, and Tani Yoru for your support, too!

You're all wonderful. :D

Lastly, please take the time to notice the dates!

* * *

><p><em>Recap:<em>

_And then there was a sickening sound of flesh being penetrated, the crunch of bones._

_"Gin!" she cried out. "Gin, no!" and could only watch helplessly as three swords pierced into his body from the front and two sides. Blood poured out in rivers and he was barely even conscious anymore, but she saw his red-stained lips move in a silent whisper:_

_"Kill, Kamishini no Yari."_

_Three bodies fell to the ground around him, ending the war, and he slumped down, fallen on his knees, the zanpakutou protruding from his body. Behind him, Aiko stood frozen in shock, the horror that was creeping into Matsumoto's chest reflected on her face. Her white hair was dyed red, her zanpakutou lying useless on the ground._

_"__Gin!__" Matsumoto flew to his side, an arm around his shoulders to keep him from falling backwards. "No…no," she choked on her tears. "Not again. Not again." His eyes slid open, the blue-greens already dimming, and he didn't even have the strength to lift his hand anymore. She had to lean her ear close to his mouth to hear what he was saying._

_"Rangiku...I'll...be…goin' on...ahead…" and then his eyes closed for the last time._

_The tears sliding down her face were thick and so, so wet. They blurred her vision as she wrenched each of the three swords out of his body, as smoothly as she could. And then she held him in her arms and sobbed for a long, long time, until the medics arrived and she could cry no more, until his body grew cold._

_How it could have all fallen apart so easily, she didn't know._

* * *

><p>Story of a Lifetime - Part IV<p>

* * *

><p><em>September 29th – Year 247 (50 years later...)<em>

Amidst the sounds of sweeping, scrubbing, paper stacking, and soft chatter, one girl's voice broke out in a curious question: "Matsumoto-taichou, would you like to go drinking with us?" All movement paused in the room as several expectant heads turned to the fiery-haired woman.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I have to decline," Matsumoto smiled wryly and shook her head, "I quit drinking fifty years ago."

The squad members all dropped what they were doing, crowding around their taichou. "But you don't actually have to drink!" they pressed. "We can go out somewhere, maybe grab a bite!"

"It's your birthday today, isn't it?" another boy added.

She smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, it is."

"So come on! It'll be the Eighth Squad's treat for our wonderful taichou!" Matsumoto laughed, genuinely grateful for the concern of her squad.

"No, I'm sorry, guys. I have something else to do today. But thanks for the thought anyway." She stacked the last of her paperwork together neatly, lined them up at the corner of her desk, and stood up. "Well, I'll be leaving early today. You guys can leave as soon as you're done with what you're doing. See you all tomorrow."

There were multiple disappointed groans at their taichou's rejection, but they reluctantly responded, "Good night, Matsumoto-taichou."

She let her eyes close and stretched as she stepped outside into the cool night air, breathing in the scent of fallen leaves, letting out a hearty sigh. A rustle to her right caught her attention, and she turned with a bright smile. "Ah, you're here already, Aiko? Let's go get some food!"

"Yeah," the young woman said with a soft smile. They fell into step together with a well-practiced rhythm. "How was your day, Rangiku-san?"

"Pretty good. My squad offered to take me out for dinner, but I prefer eating with you on a day like this," she said with a grin.

"I see," said Aiko.

"What's wrong?" Matsumoto asked. "You seem down."

"No, it's nothing. Nothing's bothering me."

"Come on, tell me. Oh, I know! Is it a _boy_ problem?" Matsumoto teased, elbowing her in the ribs. Aiko flushed, the color bright in the glow of the lanterns lining the street.

"I wouldn't get hung up on something like that!"

"Aha, so you _are_ hung up on something!" Aiko clamped her mouth shut. "Tell me or I won't stop pestering you for the rest of the day."

"Seriously, Rangiku-san, it's nothing. I'm just a little tired, that's all. So, what have you been doing all day? Paperwork? Hitsugaya-taichou wouldn't believe the amount of paperwork you do nowadays."

"Well, I'm a taichou now. I have to handle my responsibilities, you know? By the way, have you seen the Third Squad's persimmon trees? They've grown so much this year, even though I haven't done anything out of the usual, just picking the fruits when they grow ripe."

Aiko's breath caught at that, but she kept her voice steady: "Yes, I noticed that, too. It's kind of weird, actually."

"…"

"Rangiku-san?"

"So you're still feeling guilty, are you?" The younger girl stopped and Matsumoto did the same. "Aiko, it's been fifty years," she said, putting a hand on the slightly shorter girl's head. "Stop blaming yourself for what happened. He chose to die that way; it wasn't your fault. We've had this conversation countless times." Aiko's bottom lip trembled as her face finally fell.

"I-I keep trying to convince myself, but I can't help it, Rangiku-san. He died right in front of my eyes, for me, because I was distracted by something going on in the distance that shouldn't even have mattered. I can't help feeling guilty." Aiko shook her head, the long, white strands swinging. "Especially on the day you two met. How could I let him die on the day you met?" she whispered, her voice cracking. "It's too hard. This is too cruel." A pause, wetness gathering in her eyes. "I miss him, Rangiku-san."

Matsumoto smiled sadly at the girl and drew her close, rubbing her back when the quiet sobs began. "I know, Aiko. I miss him, too."

* * *

><p><em>The bark was rough against her palm, but she knew it wouldn't give her any splinters. And so she slid her hand down the trunk, wondering, wondering...<em>

_And indeed: "That tree's not me, Ran-chan," came an amused voice. She turned to face him, his captain robes rustling as he stopped a yard away from her. _

_A corner of her mouth quirked up. "Are you regretting leaving it behind now?"_

"_Nah," he said easily. "It belongs here. It's always been here."_

"_I like it here," she agreed. Orange, red, brown, golden leaves blew past, blocking him from her view for a moment. But he was still there when they were gone. "Are you taking me anywhere today?" she asked._

"_Yeah. This'll be th'last time, though."_

"_I know. Fifty years is a long time."_

_He smiled in response, gentle and true. Then, she was abruptly thrown into a world where the ground was suddenly twice as close, where the rocks cut into her feet and her lungs were bursting for air._

"_Gin!" she skid to a stop, whirling around when the man caught up to Gin, trying to grab at him by the collar._

"_Run!" he yelled, twisting and dodging and ducking with quick feet away from a man three times his size._

"_You little brat," the man growled. "Thief, give me back my bread!"_

"_Sorry mister, but we need to survive, too!" Matsumoto shouted from her spot a safe distance away, itching to fly to him._

"_Ya stupid girl, run already!" Gin shouted over his shoulder. She bit her lip, hopping from one foot to the other, her fingers digging into the basket of bread. _

"_I-I can't just leave you!"_

"_Matsumoto Rangiku, I swear, if ya don' leave right this seco—" But he couldn't finish when the man slammed his foot into Gin's stomach, forcing all the air out of the little boy, and he fell._

"_Gin!" she dropped the basket and scrambled towards him. He lay there groaning, clutching his middle. Throwing herself on top of him, she grit her teeth and bore it out when the man began kicking her in the back. _

"_Stupid girl, get off! I need this freakin' kid to tell me where he hid all my bread!"_

"_No!" The man snarled, grabbing her wrist and pulling her up by force. Dangling by his grip, she met his gaze straight-on as it swept over her. It felt as if her arm was going to rip out of its socket, but she glared and refused to cry out. _

_Her eyes narrowed when his grip tightened and a sick leer drew across his face. "Well well well, aren't _you_ a pretty little thing...I could probably sell you fo—" His grip suddenly went slack when she sank her teeth into his arm and Gin simultaneously drove his knee into his crotch. She fell to the ground with a hard crack, but before the pain set in, she was thrown on Gin's back as he bolted away into the forest, the man's pained howls echoing behind them._

_They ran for a good half hour before he finally slowed down, panting and sweat trickling down his forehead. "That's why...I never...take ya with me," he got out between gasps. She reached around his neck to fan his face._

"_Is this better?" the girl asked in concern._

"_No," he replied flatly._

"_Sorry," she let her arms fall. "Um, you can put me down now..." He crouched down, letting her carefully slide off. With his back turned, she let herself wince when her right foot touched the ground. Lightly brushing the large purple bruise that was beginning to make her ankle swell, she bit the inside of her cheek when she realized that there was no way he wouldn't notice. "G-Gin...?"_

"_What?" He'd more or less caught his breath and was unhurriedly making his way around the forest clearing, gathering sticks for a small fire to illuminate the rapidly setting night._

"_We wouldn't happen to have any more of those bandages, would we?" Slowly, he turned around, pinning her with his gaze._

"_What did you—" When his eyes found her swollen ankle, they widened and he abandoned his sticks on the spot, rushing over to her. She held out her leg for him to examine, trying not to flinch at his prodding. "Ya idiot," he muttered, frowning deeply. "Alrighty, this is gonna hurt." His quick upward glance prepared her for the worst. "The bone has to be realigned. Tomorrow, we'll take ya to a village doctor, but I have t'reset it 'fore then. Ready?" She nodded, brow furrowed. Concentrating on a firefly that was floating near his head, she clenched her jaw. "I'm gonna count to three, got it?" She nodded again. "One...two—" and pain clawed all the way up to her thigh, her jaw locked together to keep in the scream, tears beading at her eyes._

_Deep breaths. Deep breaths. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. She exhaled slowly, and swallowed down the tears. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. "I thought you said three," the girl ground out._

"_Yeah. If I do it when yer not expectin' it, it'll hurt less." He studied her grimace. "Yer okay?"_

"_Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." _

_Grinning up at her, he declared proudly, "My Ran-chan's so brave. Okay now, up we go," and swept her up in his arms again before setting her down on a log. "Stay here like a good girl and I'll start a fire."_

"_Okay." He disappeared into the trees, the sun slowly descending behind grassy hills. She sat there patiently until the glow had bid its final farewell and the stars woke to replace it. Crickets began making their music, a wayward firefly blinking here and there, but still Gin did not return._

_Matsumoto rose on her good leg, hopping towards the spot where she'd last seen him before the trees merged. "Gin?" There was no reply, so she hopped deeper into the forest. _

_A thunderous boom made her jump, and then the crickets were silent. "Gin?" she whispered._

_Suddenly, a grotesque monster taller than the trees burst through the woods, its white face twisted in hunger, saliva dripping from its sharp teeth. "Food," it hissed, starting for her. Every step made the ground tremble. _

_Matsumoto stood stiff with fear. When it was only five trees away, the snap of a dry twig under her quivering foot finally gave her the strength to spin around, hopping away on one foot as quickly as she could. When it became obvious that that wasn't going to be good enough, she used her other leg as well, limping away. Adrenaline coursed through her veins. Her pain was numbed._

_She could not die here. Not like this. She refused to die like this, for something as worthless as a mindless monster. _

_Gritting her teeth, the little girl almost tripped, listening to it get closer and closer to her, its hungry pants ringing in her ears. But the evil sound was quickly drowned out by the accelerating beat of her own heart, cold sweat pouring down her face._

_It was getting closer. Hurry. Hurry, hurry, _hurry_!_

_But it was not to be. Her ankle gave out on her, and Matsumoto fell on her front with a sharp cry, rocks digging into her palms. The booming came closer, vibrations rocking her body. _

_She clenched her eyes shut._

_But then the vibrations stopped and when no teeth sank into her, Matsumoto peeked an eye open and glanced over her shoulder._

"_Die, hollow!" Her eyes widened when a blur of black and silver swept through the monster. A scream of agony, and then it disintegrated as if it had never been there, leaving behind a trail of flattened trees. Lying there, frozen in shock, the man clad in black robes looked like an angel to her. When he faced her, she was met with the most sincere pair of brown eyes she had ever seen. "Are you okay?" He held out a hand and she took it, balancing on her uninjured leg. _

"_Thank you," she whispered, heart still racing._

_He smiled. "No problem. We have your friend, too. He's a little hurt, but it's nothing serious. We had no idea what he was doing, luring the hollow, until we realized that you were there."_

"_Where is he?" she exclaimed, suddenly in a hurry to see Gin's face. Following the man's lead, she jump-stepped further into the trees and three minutes later came upon a clearing similar to the one she'd been in. He was sitting against a large boulder, a man with curly brown hair wrapping bandages around his torso._

"_Rangiku!" he called when he saw her, and immediately leaped up._

"_Hey hey hey, calm yourself, little boy," the man with curly hair said. "Ukitake, this boy here won't listen to me and keeps struggling. Do something!"Ukitake sighed._

"_Just do the bandages, Kyouraku. You should be able to do that much."_

"_Gin, are you okay?" Matsumoto limped over to him. He finally stopped trying to pull away from the frustrated shinigami._

"_I'm fine, fine. Yer okay?"_

_She nodded. "I'm good, too. So stay still and let the nice man do your bandages already!" He sighed through his nose and sat back down obediently. Kyouraku gratefully tied the final knots._

"_There you go. We're all done now." _

_Matsumoto bowed to the two men. "Thank you very much for saving our lives." Ukitake smiled._

"_No problem. But you two have quite a bit of spiritual power. Wouldn't you like to become shinigami?" The children glanced at each other, then shook their heads._

"_Sorry, not interested," Gin said._

"_I like my life the way it is right now," Matsumoto added. Ukitake's brow furrowed. _

"_But it's dangerous out here. It's safe in Seireitei."_

_Matsumoto laughed. "Yeah, until we have to fight. It's all the same." Gin stayed silent, but she knew that he was thinking something along the lines of refusing to become a shinigami dog. "Well, we'll be on our way now. Thank you again." And the pair walked away from the concerned shinigami, unknowing that their paths would cross soon again._

_Matsumoto blinked. The surrounding trees, the branch-littered ground, the pain in her ankle—it all faded away, like a stopped movie that lost its sound and then its colors. In its place was the touch of a soft duvet pooled around her lap and the cool air of the room, blowing out her candle. Curious, she got up and approached her open window. "Gin?" A cold breeze forced her to pull her sleeping clothes tighter around her neck, her long hair fluttering._

"_Yo, Ran-chan," he said. His back was to her as he leaned against the railing of the red arch bridge overlooking his Third Squad gardens. _

"_What are you doing over there?" she asked, appreciating that she didn't have to yell over the distance in the silent night._

"_Gettin' ready."_

"_For what?"_

"_Eh, ya'll find out soon 'nough," he said cryptically, still not facing her._

_She thought for a moment. "Oh, I almost forgot. You said that this would be the last night, didn't you?"_

"_Yup."_

"_And...what are you going to do after this?" Her voice was small._

_He looked at her, a cocky smirk on his face. "Who knows? I'll just go with the flow." She studied the shadows cast on his face by the moon before nodding with a smile._

"_Okay." When his smirk faded a little, she laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I'll be fine. You just have fun wherever you're going."_

"_...I will."_

"_Good. And I'll live my life. When I'm finally bored of my world, well, we'll just have to see what happens then. Right?" _

"_Right." His smirk returned with full force. "Yer strong, Rangiku."_

"_That's right. You're going to miss me like nobody's business," she teased with a wide grin. They watched each other for a close moment, and then she held up a hand, reaching out the window. "How about a last handshake?" _

_He smiled, bittersweet, stepping off the bridge and crossing the well-kept grass towards her. He reached up, palm facing the sky, almost like an offering. But as he approached, the night behind him was beginning to be swept up, sucked away by the wind. She stretched further, her fingers reaching, reaching—_

Matsumoto's eyes cracked open. The covers were tucked right up to her chin, but her hands were cold.

Hadn't they always been cold?

* * *

><p><em>September 29th – Year 248<em>

"Rangiku-taichooooouu~! Happy Birthday!" A million bouquets were thrust into the unsuspecting woman's face.

"Oh, wow. Thanks so much, you guys." She laughed and took them all, gathering them against her chest. "I can't believe how quickly this year passed."

"Yeah, we can't believe it either, what with such a hot babe as tai—" The scruffy-looking man was knocked upside the head by his squad mate.

"Geez, all you stupid men ever think about is stuff like that! It's Rangiku-taichou's birthday; can't you be a little more respectful?"

"I didn't mean it in a disrespectful way! I was just being truthful!"

"Yeah, well you know what? We don't care about your opinion!"

"What did you say, you stinkin' woman?"

"What, you got a problem?" The entire squad broke out into a yelling match, noses pressed to noses. Matsumoto chuckled and Nanao shook her head.

"This team is as idiotic as ever," she muttered.

"Aw, don't be such a stick in the mud, Nanao-fukutaichou," Matsumoto poked her. "Aren't they just so adorable?"

Nanao snorted. "Depends on what your definition of adorable is. But anyway, putting them aside for the moment, are you going to accept their dinner invitation this year? Because you know they're definitely going to ask."

"Hmm..." she tilted her head, going over the possibilities. "Well, okay, why not? I'll bring Aiko along this year, too."

Sudden silence set in the squad meeting room, and then spontaneous noise broke out once again, even louder than before. Nanao twitched, resisting the urge to clap her hands over her ears.

"You're accepting our dinner invitation, Matsumoto-taichou?" several giddy youngsters squawked.

"Yeah. It sounds fun. And I think I might even order a few jugs of sake!" A collective cheer burst across the crowd.

"Is it true that you were a legendary drinker back in the day, Matsumoto-taichou?"

"Hey, that's rude, what do you mean back in the day!" She smirked. "I could still beat you all in a drinking contest today!"

"YOU'RE ON!"

* * *

><p>"Hey, hey, Rangiku-san, are you all right?" Nanao patted a hand down Matsumoto's back.<p>

"I'm fiiiiiiiine!" she laughed, smacking the table, loud even over the noise of the restaurant.

"Is she really okay?" Hinamori asked, biting her lip. "Hasn't it been something like fifty years that she hasn't touched alcohol?"

"Yeah," Nanao sighed. "I'm not exactly applauding the comeback, but it is kind of relieving."

"Huh? How?"

"It means that she's recovering, doesn't it?" Nanao stated with one of her rare smiles. "It's about time. Fifty-one years have passed."

"I don't know about that," Hinamori said doubtfully. "What if this means that she's just drowning herself in sake again? The first time she started getting hooked on it was to forget about you-know-who, because he kept disappearing, right?

Nanao blinked. "Hmm...well, I hadn't thought of it that way," she admitted. "But if it makes her feel better, I think drinking sake is fine. Her alcohol tolerance is as good as ever." They paused. "I suppose we should just wait it out."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Hinamori sighed. "They do say that time heals all." So the two women made do with watching time go by.

* * *

><p><em>December 15th – Year 253<em>

"Matsumoto."

Matsumoto looked up from her desk. "Taichou! What are you doing here?"

"Hinamori wants to go out for lunch together. Are you free?"

"Ehhh? Wouldn't I totally be a third wheel?"

His face reddened. "No! It's just lunch! Are you coming or not?"

"Aww," she pouted. "You don't have to get all worked up. Okay, since you insist, I'll go!"

"Fine," he muttered. "Meet us at Naonozushi at twelve sharp. I won't tolerate tardiness."

"Yes, taichou!" she saluted and he walked out, still mumbling under his breath.

* * *

><p>"Ooooohh~ This sushi is soooooooo good!"<p>

"I know, right!" Hinamori exclaimed. "The egg roll is my favorite."

Matsumoto pursed her lips. "If I had to choose, I'd say that ikura is my favorite."

"Oh, yes, I love ikura as well. Shiro-chan hates it, though."

"Don't call me Shiro-chan," Hitsugaya grumbled. "And pass me those rolls, you stupid girl."

"I'm not a stupid girl!"

"Yes, you are." When Hinamori pouted and refused to pass him the rolls, he growled, leaned over the table, and snatched the plate. "Don't be such a brute, Shiro-chan!"

"Shut up!"

"Um...guys...?" The bickering couple ignored her and she laughed awkwardly. "Alrighty then, I'm just going to go...powder my nose or something. I'll be right back." Matsumoto climbed up from her tatami cushion and blended into the bustling crowd in the background. Hinamori cut off mid-protest and sat back down, all cheeriness evaporated.

"So? What do you think?"

"I think you're worrying too much," Hitsugaya replied. His chopsticks reached for a cucumber roll, but she slapped his hand. "Ow!"

"I'm trying to be serious here! I'm worried about Rangiku-san!"

"And I'm being serious, too," he sighed, giving up and setting down the chopsticks. "I think you're reading too much into her actions. So what if she started drinking sake again? It's just a return of the habit."

"Bu-But it's been over fifty whole years! More like fifty-five or fifty-six!"

"Hinamori." Hitsugaya rubbed his temples, partly in exasperation, but also because of his own anxiety for Matsumoto. "First of all, isn't your reaction too late? It's been, what, five years since she started drinking again? And she's fine so far—"

"I only waited this long to see what would happen!" she jumped up again. "But nothing has changed!"

"_Listen_," he bid her. She frowned, but settled down. "I know fifty years seem like a long time. It's the majority of a lifetime for a human, but you're forgetting that we are not human. Our time moves differently from theirs. To us, fifty years can come and go in the blink of an eye, or it can drag on, hour after hour. It depends on the person; it depends on the circumstances. To Matsumoto, fifty years probably passed before she could even notice what was going on. She spent centuries with him; five decades is a relatively short mourning time."

"No, I mean, I know that, I do," Hinamori said, staring frustrated down at her laced fingers. "I just can't help but worry. She never confides in us, Shiro-chan. She never says anything at all, just like that time when Ichimaru-taichou left with Aizen. It's like she's missing something and it makes me so angry because I feel so useless!"

Hitsugaya sighed again, crossing his arms over his chest. "I get that, Hinamori. You'd think her former taichou would be able to help her, but I can't do anything either. She's strong, that Matsumoto. This is just what happens when you lose someone important. The hole won't disappear, but it will scar over. She'll be fine." Hinamori opened her mouth to say something, but Matsumoto reappeared right at that moment, plopping down in her seat.

"Hey, guys! Did you get over your couple's spat?"

"I-It wasn't—" Hinamori sputtered.

"I'm going back to my office now," Hitsugaya interrupted. "I've got lots of work to do."

"Ehhh? Taichou, can't you stay a little longer? Your lieutenant can handle it until you're back!"

Hitsugaya glared down his nose at her. Matsumoto shivered as the air got colder. "I've gotten used to not depending on my lieutenant," he declared darkly, then exited unceremoniously.

"Geez, Hinamori," Matsumoto turned to the smaller woman. "What's wrong with your hubby?"

"H-He's not my—!"

"Excuse me~! Can I have a bottle of sake here please?"

"Right away, ma'am!"

* * *

><p>Five hours later, the floor around them was littered with sake bottles and overturned cups. Hinamori had been fidgeting and shifting in her seat the entire time, trying to think of the best way to approach what had become the forbidden subject.<p>

But enough was enough. She was tired of being a friend only in name.

"Um...Rangiku-san?" She received a noncommittal grunt in reply. Her hands twisted nervously in her lap. "Are...are you okay?"

"Ah, don't worry~I can take much more than this," the inebriated woman chuckled, sprawled over the table.

"No, um, I meant—I meant..." Hinamori sighed, dejected. "It's nothing. Never mind. I'll talk to you when you're more coherent." Matsumoto didn't reply for a while, her face buried in her arms, and Hinamori thought for a second that she'd fallen asleep.

But then her muffled voice suddenly muttered, "What a frightening person he was."

Hinamori bit her lip. The barrier she couldn't bring herself to breach ended up being broken from the other side. It could only mean one of two things: Matsumoto had either healed, or she was in great need of being healed. Hinamori watched her friend worriedly, then rested a comforting hand on the woman's head.

"I didn't know anything until that day Aizen left for Hueco Mundo, you know? That was the first time I felt true fear towards him." Matsumoto let go of her last sake bottle, choosing instead to close her eyes and let the energy ebb from her hidden expression.

"Why?" Hinamori asked quietly. "Because he betrayed you?"

She laughed drily. "No. Because I finally realized that he'd been doing it all along. I found him once on a snowy day a long time ago, him having disappeared for days without a word. There was blood on his face and he had a shinigami robe on him. It wasn't until that instant, when he left with Aizen, that I realized what that meant."

Hinamori swallowed. "And you were scared?"

"Of course," the muffled voice came bitterly. "I'm not stupid or crazy—any real person would be terrified."

"Then why did you stick with him when he came back?"

She shrugged. "That was the first and last time I felt fear towards him."

"Wait...but...you just...just accepted it and moved on?" Hinamori asked incredulously. "That he could kill like that?"

Again, Matsumoto laughed, and again, it was empty. "I thought about it a lot. I kept remembering the blood on his cheeks, and later, the fierce look on his face as he fought, the undaunted, inhuman way he wielded his sword. But then it would all fade away, and I'd just remember him with that stupid grin as he offered me his stupid persimmons. Or the way he barely managed to limp away from a barehanded fight with a hollow that was going after me. Or just the way he looked as he slept. And suddenly, I wasn't afraid anymore. It's..." she groped for the right words, hoping her friend would understand. "It's _him_. I mean, it's not just anyone; it's the one person you've always trusted and been beside and did everything with. It's not something you can control, you know?"

And although it was a bit of struggle, although it was kind of unbelievable, Hinamori being Hinamori, with that personality and the experience of betrayal, understood. "I think...I think I might get it," she conceded—the closest she would ever again come to admitting how hurt she'd been by Aizen's betrayal. Matsumoto lifted her head, her face red from the alcohol, and smiled. Hinamori withdrew her hand with an answering grin, deciding then that it had been the latter—Matsumoto was in terrible need of being healed. She berated herself for not realizing sooner. She should have known that the burden of losing a loved one could not be carried by a single person. She should have known.

Matsumoto's smile turned bittersweet. "But then he died, so soon. I hadn't even begun to understand enough of who he was." She looked down, tracing circles on the wood. "Even at death, he refused to say anything I could grab ahold of. What a despicable guy."

"You loved him for it," Hinamori said quietly. Matsumoto slowly looked up, an oddly grateful expression on her face. "You know, Rangiku-san, I was just talking to Shiro-chan about how you never talk to us about anything."

Matsumoto didn't reply.

"But I think I've figured out why you wouldn't now. Shiro-chan said it was because you're strong, but I think you're just afraid we wouldn't understand. Maybe you're unwilling to hand us the burden of knowing we don't understand, too."

Matsumoto sighed. "That's a pretty grown-up way of thinking, Hinamori." A dry smile. "You've grown too, haven't you? I can honestly say that I didn't read so deeply into it, though."

"You should come talk to me," Hinamori declared. "If no one else, I should be able to understand. So come talk to me anytime, Rangiku-san."

Matsumoto laughed for the third time that night, but this one filled with genuine warmth and mirth. "Sure. I think I will."

* * *

><p><em>January 2nd – Year 256<em>

Hinamori looked up from the sheaves of paper spread all around her when a knock came at the door. "Come in!" The shouji screen slid open and there stood Matsumoto, still dressed in her New Years kimono, a large bundle in her hands. "Rangiku-san! Get in here, hurry! Aren't you cold? It's freezing outside." Matsumoto slid out of her sandals and padded quietly into the room, plopping down beside her friend. "What's that?"

"It's your New Years present!" Matsumoto exclaimed excitedly, setting the bundle down and untying the knot. Hinamori gasped when the cloth was pulled back to reveal over a dozen colorful bottles of all different shapes and sizes. "See, see?"

"What are those?" Hinamori looked awestruck.

"Make-up and perfume and lotions and creams and stuff! I got it from the Real World when I went on my vacation."

"Wow..." Hinamori fingered the bottles, picking them up one by one and admiring the pretty designs. "But...I don't really know how to use..."

"Of course, that's what I'm here for," Matsumoto grinned. "We're going to have so much fun."

"Aww, thanks, Rangiku-san. I'll give you your present later. It's over at Shiro-chan's place, so I don't have it right now."

"Okay." Matsumoto's attention was drawn to the messy sheets of paper strewn across Hinamori's lap. "What were you doing?"

"Huh?" Hinamori looked down at the papers. "Oh, nothing," she said with a blush. Matsumoto raised a brow.

"Riiiight...come on, it must be something good if you're blushing like that. What is it?" She twisted her neck to catch a glimpse, but Hinamori quickly gathered the pile and shoved it behind her back.

"Really, it's nothing for you to worry about, Rangiku-san!"

"Hmm..." her eyes narrowed. "That just makes me more curious, you know?"

"Please, just let it go for now," Hinamori pleaded. "So...um...was there something else you came for? Besides the present? I'm sure there is."

"Uh. Not really," Matsumoto seemed to instantly forget about the pile behind Hinamori and began fidgeting.

Hinamori blinked. "...Wow, there must really be something you're here for if you're fidgeting like that. Matsumoto Rangiku doesn't fidget." Matsumoto just smiled awkwardly. "Go on, I'm listening," Hinamori urged.

"Umm...well, it's nothing really important, actually."

"That's okay. Tell me anyway. You came all this way, after all."

Matsumoto bit her lip, squirming a bit. Hinamori folded her hands together, waiting patiently with an encouraging smile. "Well..."

"Yes?"

"You know how a couple years ago, you said I could come talk to you? About anything, anytime?"

The dark-haired woman sat up straighter, a spark in her eyes. "Yes, I did. I'd still say the same thing now, and forever into the future."

"I see." Matsumoto scratched her head. "Sorry, I'm not really used to this. While I'm sober, I mean."

"Oh, no," Hinamori waved her arms around frantically. "Don't be sorry. There's a first for everything. I'm just glad you came."

Matsumoto smiled gratefully. "You're a great friend. To be honest, it's really nothing urgent at all, so if you're doing anything else..." her eyes again slid towards the papers hidden behind Hinamori's back.

"This..." the woman sighed and reluctantly reached behind her, pulling out the package and handing it to Matsumoto. "Truthfully, it's not actually anything really worth hiding. I just felt kind of...um...awkward, that's all." The latter's eyes widened.

"Oh my God."

"Yeah," Hinamori grinned sheepishly. "I was kind of embarrassed, so I didn't really want to show anyone."

"And you didn't tell _me_?"

"I was going to, I swear! It's just that I got kind of caught up reading it...it's quite interesting..."

"Oh, please," Matsumoto scoffed. "If you want advice on how to plan a wedding, you should ask a real, live woman that got married!"

"...You're right. Why didn't I think of that?" Matsumoto dropped the package, squealed, and threw her arms around her startled friend.

"I can't believe he proposed! You have to tell me _all_ the details. I'm never going to let him live it down," the fiery-haired woman smirked. "Plus, now we have a chance to use all that make-up. This is going to be great."

"Okay," Hinamori grinned shyly. "But, um, you still haven't told me what you came here for, Rangiku-san."

"Ah," Matsumoto sat back on her heels. "Well, you know how the last time we talked about Gin, we talked about was his betrayal and stuff?"

"Uh-huh?"

"I just—ugh, I don't know, I'm being so stupid. I was feeling kind of sentimental with this snowfall and everything." Matsumoto looked away, her brows scrunched up. "I think...I think I just wanted to share with someone some of the good things that happened with him. It wasn't only the betrayal. That was just a stage in our long lives together. I couldn't think of anyone that would want to listen to this crap, though. Shizuka only knows the boring, factual stuff that I told her, Nanao-chan seems like the type to criticize everything, and Aiko's kind of...youn—"

"Please," Hinamori cut in, scooting closer with a wide smile. "Do tell. Your story is an amazing one. Hearing it directly from Rangiku-san would be wonderful."

Matsumoto looked astonished for a moment. "Um...uh...really? You really want to hear it?"

"Please tell." Hinamori's eyes were wide and eager. "It's been a while since I've heard a good, genuine romance."

Matsumoto beamed, the happiest she'd been in a long while. "I don't really know where to start."

"Anywhere is fine. What made you feel sentimental in this weather?"

"Oh. Right." They leaned in close together, both enchanted with what this conversation could become, and Matsumoto began her tale: "So, once, I was lying in the snow, making a snow angel..."

* * *

><p>January 3rd – Year 256<p>

The following day, Matsumoto woke up from a memory of the past.

"_Hey."_

_Matsumoto looked up from her knees. "Kira." He sat down beside her, allowing himself to relax a little from his normally stiff posture._

"_How are you?"_

_She fisted a handful of grass, ripping out the green blades and flinging them behind her, then repeated it all over again. "I'm holding up well enough."_

"_That's good."_

"_What about you?"_

_He smiled wryly. "About as well as you, I guess. Well no, maybe a tiny bit better."_

"_Huh." _

_He eyed the careless way she continued to maim the guiltless grass. "Why are you doing that?"_

"_Oh, sorry." He thought she'd suddenly come to her senses, but then she asked, "would you prefer that I throw it out that way?" She gestured to the edge of the hill they were sitting on, out into the wild unknown far below._

"_...I...don't really care."_

"_Okay then." She resumed her ripping. By then, the spot around her right hand was becoming a bald spot of dirt. _

"_Did the grass do anything wrong?" he ventured._

"_No," she responded absentmindedly. "It's just that the grass doesn't mind, so I figured I shouldn't mind either."_

"_Um...well, if it really makes you feel better, I suppose pulling out the roots too would be more efficient?"_

"_No, no," she sighed. "That, the grass would mind."_

"_...Right. Of course. So, how's work coming along? Is Hitsugaya-taichou as strict as ever?"_

"_Meh. I don't know, I haven't really noticed anything in particular."_

"_How's the Tenth Squad?"_

"_Recovering very quickly. A little too quickly," she added darkly._

"_Too quickly?"_

"_As if it had never happened," she said, and threw her last handful of grass towards the setting sun._

_..._

"_Hey there, Rangiku-san!"_

"_Oh, hello, Shuuhei."_

"_Ah, doing paperwork, I see!" He hovered over her shoulder as she swept her brush across the paper. "Would you like some help?"_

"_No."_

_He faltered at the flat response, but bounced back quickly. "Are you sure? I have nothing better to do, and I was a little worried about my friend anyway."_

"_You should go help that friend," she said._

"_I meant you, Rangiku-san."_

"_Oh. Well, I'm fine. But thanks anyway, Shuuhei."_

_He scratched his head awkwardly, the forced mirth wiped from his face. "Listen, Rangiku-san...I actually came today because Kira said that you weren't being yourself, so I was worried. And now that I've seen for myself what he meant, I really think you need to relieve some stress. Of course, I understand that it's difficult to suddenly just forget the war and go back to old times, but...but it's been a while now. How about some sake? Would you like to go out for dinner, all of us partying away like the good old times? Or how 'bout we spar a little?"_

_She didn't even pretend to think about it. Her brush strokes were even and neat. "Sorry, Shuuhei, but I have something else to do today. Some other time, okay? Now, I really have to finish this by eight, and I kind of have to concentrate for that."_

_His face fell. He watched her for another short moment before sighing and nodding. "All right. If you ever need us for anything at all, please don't hesitate."_

"_Thanks, Shuuhei," she said, but her voice was flat._

Matsumoto realized for the first time in half a century as she sat there in bed, the five o'clock birds chirping outside the window, that she had the will to truly apologize again. So she got up with a smile and did exactly that.

* * *

><p>And before anyone realized, another fifty years passed by.<p>

* * *

><p><em>September 10th – Year 300<em>

Whispers haunted the hallways. It had been that way for the past month or so—clusters of people gathered here and there, creating their own sparks—but a week ago, the fires of rumour flared, and they had yet to die down.

"Did you hear?"

"Yeah, I did. Frightening, isn't it?"

"Totally. I dropped everything I was holding when I saw."

"What do you think will happen from now on?"

"I don't know. I kind of don't want to know."

"Isn't this the first time something like this has ever happened?"

"I heard that they had a meeting about it, just with Yamamoto-soutaichou and Unohana-taichou. She's the oldest taichou now, since Ukitake- and Kyouraku-taichou retired."

From a corner in the hallway, Matsumoto peered at all the shinigami going about their business in the hallway. "Nanao-chan," she whispered, "what do you think they're talking about?"

Nanao rolled her eyes. "Rangiku-san, this is your squad. If you're so curious, why don't you just ask someone? And please stop hiding there. It's unsightly for a taichou to be such a gossiper."

"Oh, don't be so stuck-up, Nanao-chan. You never change."

"I could say the same to you, Rangiku-san. An odd taste is left in my mouth every time I'm forced to utter 'Matsumoto-_taichou_' in public."

"That's so mean!" she whined.

"Anyway, it's time for lunch with Hitsugaya-taichou and Hinamori-san. If we don't go now, we're going to be late."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered. "I'll be there in a minute, after I find out what all this hustle-bustle is about."

"Rangiku-san, Hitsugaya-taichou is going to be angry if you're late again."

"...Argh. Fine," she sighed.

The Eighth Squad taichou and fukutaichou arrived at the sushi restaurant that had steadily become the shinigamis' favorite place to dine with five minutes to spare. "See?" Matsumoto gloated. "I told you we would've been fine. But _nooo_, if we're not early, that's not good enough for Nanao-chan."

"I merely intend to correct your tendency for tardiness," Nanao sniffed.

"I'm not always late!"

"I didn't say that. I said that you tend to be."

"That's the same thing!"

"Rangiku-san! Nanao-san! We're over heeeeere!" Two frantically waving arms among the few dozen tables caught Matsumoto's eye.

"Hey, Hinamori! Ah, Taichou's here, too!" Hitsugaya nodded in greeting to Nanao, then growled when Matsumoto flounced up to him and ruffled his hair affectionately from across the table.

"I haven't seen you in a while, Taichou!"

"Yeah, and it was so peaceful without you around, too," he snapped, smacking her hand away.

"Taichou's as cold as ever!" Matsumoto declared cheerfully, plopping down on her chair. "All right, let's order some food. I'm starving. Waitress! Hi. Can I get an oyako-don?"

"I want miso ramen!"

"Gyouza."

"I would like an order of your Naonozushi Udon, please."

"Will that be all?"

"Yeah."

"One order of oyako-don, one order of miso ramen, one order of gyouza, and one order of Naonozushi Udon, yes? Your food will be with you shortly." She collected the menus and clacked off in her tall wooden shoes.

"So. How're the lovebirds?" Matsumoto rested her head on her hand, a glint in her eyes.

"Happily married!" Hinamori chirped. Hitsugaya slapped her upside the head.

"You always say that. The whole world knows we're married, you moron."

"So? I like it that way!" Hinamori wailed. "You didn't have to hit me, Shiro-chan, you bully!"

"..." Hitsugaya had long since given up lecturing his wife on the etiquette of how to address others.

"Looks fun," Matsumoto said with a grin. "You guys are so lucky."

"Lucky?" the white-haired taichou scoffed. "Right. I've been married to this idiot for fifty years now. I deserve some kind of an award." Nanao barely refrained from a not-this-again eye roll, while Matsumoto snickered, greedily drinking up the free entertainment.

"Hey! You're the one that proposed!"

"Tch." He looked away. "Don't know what I was thinking."

"Shiro-chan..." Alarmed eyes shot towards his wife at her depressed tone. "Why do you have to be so mean all the time? And on our wedding anniversary, too..." Speechless, Hitsugaya didn't move for a second. When his arms finally twitched, as if to move towards her, Matsumoto suddenly stood up, making the three other shinigami jump. Hitsugaya's hands jerked back.

"I'm going to the washroom! Nanao-chan, want to come with?" Nanao opened her mouth to decline, but the words died when Matsumoto's evil glare descended upon her with an uncanny pressure.

"U-Uh, sure..." The jolly taichou linked her arm through her friend's, dragging her to the washroom. "Rangiku-san? Why are we—"

"Oh, don't be so dense, Nanao-chan. Come on, let's wash our hands or something." They stood wordlessly, confused on Nanao's part, casual on Matsumoto's, listening to the motion-sensor faucets rain water on their hands. Slowly, they reached for the soap and scrubbed, rinsed, then allowed the automated dryers to blow the water off of their skin.

"Rangiku-san...?"

"Ugh." Matsumoto crossed her arms across her chest and leaned against the shiny, tiled wall. "I don't want to go back."

"But we've been in here for a long time."

"...Probably not long enough."

"What do you mean?"

Matsumoto sighed. "Never mind."

"Well, I'm going to go back now." Nanao turned to leave, but Matsumoto grabbed her arm.

"Wait, I don't know if you should just barge back in like that...you might be interrupting them."

"What?" The light bulb finally lit above the glasses-wearing woman's head. "Oh, so that's what you were so concerned about. Don't be silly, I'm sure they've worked something out by now. Besides, what in the world would we be 'interrupting'? We're in a restaurant, for goodness' sake. They're not that much of a public couple."

"Oh." Matsumoto blinked. "Haha, I guess you're right."

"Let's go back, then."

"Wait." Nanao turned back to her again, this time annoyed.

"What's wrong _now_?"

"I..." But Matsumoto bit back her selfish wish to avoid the lovesick couple. "No, it's nothing. I just suddenly remembered that there was something I needed to do."

Nanao's brow scrunched up. "What?"

"Yeah. Sorry, you go back first."

"Wait, what are you doing, Rangiku-san? You can't just leave! What about your food?"

"You can have it," Matsumoto threw a smile over her shoulder as she pushed the door open and disappeared.

* * *

><p>"What the hell happened to you?" She tilted her face up in awe at the trees, taking in the magnificent height and revelling in the shade they could now create. "It's only been a month since the last time I was here and you've grown...how much? Are trees even supposed to be growing anymore at your age?"<p>

Obviously, there was no answer, and she should have known that, but she felt stupidly disappointed anyway. "Well, that's a dumb question," she muttered. "Trees don't stop growing. Probably. Even after they've passed their three hundredth-something birthday. Or was it the four hundredth?" Still, there was no reply, and so she sighed and made herself comfortable at the base of her favorite trunk. This tree was the one she liked best because it was strangely surrounded by a handful of other ones—it made her feel safe. Closing her eyes, she basked in the sunlight peeking through foliage that would soon change color, and imagined the scent of fresh persimmons. "Happy birthday."

She didn't know how long she sat there, but it seemed as if only a short second had passed before her name carried itself over the garden, and she jolted awake.

"Rangiku-san! Hurry, there's an emergency meeting!"

"What?" All the sluggish tendrils of sleep were ripped away. "An emergency meeting?" Matsumoto got up to face her fukutaichou, brushing off her pants.

"Yes, we must head over to Yamamoto-soutaichou this instant," Nanao reported, a hell butterfly flitting by her shoulder.

"All right. Let's go."

The two flew for the meeting hall, a blur to the other taichou and fukutaichou that they passed. A million possibilities flew through Matsumoto's mind along the way. Ryoka? But no, there had been no alarm. Traitors? Dread slithered from her chest to the pit of her stomach. No, not another war. That was too big scale to leave to a single emergency meeting. What was it? What could it be?

They fell to a stop in front of the entrance and knocked on the mighty door. It opened with a creak and they stepped into the dim room, Nanao a pace behind her taichou, and the door slammed shut. The only light came from several large lanterns and many candles scattered across the room.

If Yamamoto-soutaichou would resort to lighting so many candles just for the sake of keeping the door privately closed, then this was a big matter, Matsumoto knew. Her jaw clenched. "An emergency meeting, Yamamoto-soutaichou? Are we in a state of emergency?"

Yamamoto tapped his staff on the hard wooden floor, his stance grim. "An emergency meeting, yes, but not a state of emergency," he said, and Matsumoto allowed herself to relax just the slightest. "I have asked you here today to discuss a phenomenon that has never before occurred in Soul Society. This is indeed unheard of and unbelievable, but I ask that you remain calm throughout this conference."

"Excuse the interruption," Matsumoto said, "but what about the other taichou and fukutaichou?"

"You and Ise-fukutaichou are the only shinigami I have called here today," Yamamoto replied calmly. "The rest of the Gotei 13 shall be informed at a later date." Matsumoto and Nanao glanced at each other in alarm.

"A few months ago," the old man started, "a recruit was entered into the Shinigami Academy. His progress clearly surpassed every other student's. If he continues to proceed at this rate, this shinigami will place a new record for quickest graduation from the academy, overshadowing Kurosaki-taichou's current record." The two women could only stare in astonishment.

"However, that is not the phenomenon at hand. The issue is difficult to explain with mere words, and so I have asked the shinigami in question here today. Guards, receive him."

A hidden side door that Nanao and Matsumoto had failed to notice earlier slid open with the raspy sound of wood, and an eerie presence seemed to fill the room from the entrance in. Matsumoto held up a hand to block out the weak sunlight, squinting at the shadowed figure that seemed so far away.

Her eyes widened. Her knees almost gave out on her.

"The reincarnation of Ichimaru Gin," Yamamoto affirmed, and her mouth opened in shock. "A phenomenon, because it is virtually impossible that reincarnation can occur in a mere century. Additionally, he has retained his old name, but only a part of his memories are intact, as we have concluded over the last few months of observation."

Matsumoto didn't hear. She couldn't hear anything over the roaring in her ears and the heavy thumping in her chest. His far-off figure approached slowly, his gaze locked on hers. He looked the same as he always had.

Impossible.

It could not be.

_Gin, peacefully asleep as she watched him through the bars._

_Gin in his hanami yukata, sakura blossoms in the air and the intoxicating scent of light sake._

_Gin, grinning evilly, a small Aiko perched on his shoulders wearing an identical expression._

_Gin, his eyes closed, clutched to her chest, crimson spilling from his body and chilling hers._

She was there. She'd held him until he'd turned cold. He had, indeed, turned cold.

And yet here he was once more, standing before her as if he hadn't ignored her pleas and cries of anguish one hundred years ago.

Twenty paces away from her, he stopped. They studied each other for a long, long, silent moment. And even the very air around them seemed to halt in their day-to-day duties, suspended in place, dust particles naked in the meagre glimmer of sunlight casting him in shadow (like that time on the bridge)...before his lips moved: "Rangiku."

Her heart leapt, her hands trembled, and _his_ eyes widened in realization. "I…know ya. Yer Rangiku," he said, sounding a little surprised at himself. Then he took a step that almost looked accidental towards her, as if being drawn.

She swallowed hard, her throat too dry. "G-G-Gin?" she croaked.

Blue-greens glazed over in recognition and the hand he'd been lifting towards her froze. Alarmed, her foot shifted in his direction, but then he blinked once, twice, three times—and the glaze faded and then he looked at her _that way_ again, before he smiled—the exact same smile he'd given her when she'd said 'yes'. "I saw 'em," he whispered, and she didn't know why, but her nose was stinging. "Ya took good care of my persimmon trees, eh?"

She stepped towards him, tears streaming down her face, a walk that turned into a jog, then an all-out sprint. The arms that she threw herself into caught her with the precision of centuries of experience, with the warmth of fulfillment.

* * *

><p>Restart:<p>

Year 0.


End file.
